#if anyone has any fun names for this au or something so i can keep it out of the ml tag feel free. idk what to call it officially
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ok i updated my old lesbian... cyberpunk.... future.... ml au? i changed lb's design mostly bc i just. didn't vibe with it anymore. but also i changed cn's prosthetic to be more "cat-like."
i want lb to have more of a sleepy kidcore/early 2000s(??) look bc it seemed more fun, and cn still on that rock/punk whatever shit.
i imagine lb to be a broke ass college student who wants to be a kindergarten/pre-k teacher. she likes doodling on things and tends to hyperfocus on obscure subjects for weeks. she loves gardening.
cn is a bartender who is trying to save up for a space of her own but tends to prioritize family over her own needs and much of her income is given away. she is a motorcycle enthusiast and has picked up a knack for tech bc of needing to improve or repair her prosthetic herself. she enjoys running as a hobby and HATES swimming (cat. ofc.)
#my art#NOT putting this under the m/l tag bc it just does not feel appropriate to LOL#if anyone has any fun names for this au or something so i can keep it out of the ml tag feel free. idk what to call it officially#i may do a little more revisions on this but like. idk we'll see. i miss the old ideas i used to have and want 2 improve them#my ocs
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“i love you and i love you.” ᡣ𐭩
{yuta okkotsu x f!reader}
summary: yuta okkotsu has been hopelessly in love with you since he was fifteen. you, his muse and his reason to live as you took care of him growing up more than anyone else in his life. in fear of breaking your best friend pact and losing you entirely, yuta swallows his feelings for the sake of keeping you in his life, but he can only take so much.
warnings: college au, friends to best friends to lovers trope, lowkey ooc yuta oops, mentions of underage drinking, hopelessly devoted and lovesick yuta for reader, cursing!!! both reader and yuta cuss lol, lots and lots of fluff, ANGST, afab!reader, use of y/n, pet names, no smut in this one! slight sexual themes, reader is older than yuta by two years.
word count: 8.7k
authors note: YAAALLL i actually poured my heart and soul out into this one so i really hope it reaches your heart and soul as well! it is so so cute and i had so much fun writing it. this is definitely not the end of this au! i plan to write more short stories that take place after this one :) mwah.
————————————————————————
yuta was thirteen years old when he first saw you.
you were a casual friend of his older brother who had invited his entire group of friends over for a thanksgiving feast reunion amongst yourselves. yuta stayed locked in his room for the most part, from time to time lazily making his way down the halls and through the kitchen where you all sat to get a glass of water for himself, silently savoring at the food on the table.
eventually you had picked up on his lame attempts of coming into the kitchen for random excuses, concluding that he just wanted to gawk at the food and maybe score a bite or two of the pumpkin pie drenched in whipped cream, sitting pretty and proud in the middle of the table.
but after various unsuccessful attempts and various defeated stomps down the hall and back to his room after every shoo from his brother, he knew he wasn’t going to get even a lick. at the end of the night when the group settled down and many began to take their leave, yuta made his way back down one more time in search of any lucky scraps left behind.
but what he found instead was you, standing in the kitchen with a white porcelain plate in your hands, a slice of pumpkin pie drenched in whipped cream sitting pretty in the middle.
“for you,” you had said calmly, plate outstretched, beckoning him to take it. “i saw you come down a few times looking at it, and i think whoever brought it is taking the rest of it back home, so here.”
yuta had never spoken to a girl before, much less a fifteen year old one with the sweetest smile he had ever seen in his life on her face, but he timidly and awkwardly took the smooth plate from your offering hands, and muttered a squeaky thank you before stumbling down the hall and slamming his bedroom door shut.
from then on, yuta looked forward to the next time his brother would have his friends over, nagging at him constantly with questions of when, and even going as far as to straight up planning the hangouts himself (the location of all of them being at their house of course), but his brother would only shove him out of his room and lock the door shut.
luckily for yuta his wish was granted, and his curious eyes saw you around a lot more often than not, and you gradually became a close friend of yuta’s brother instead of just casual one. every time you came over to his house, you always greeted him with the biggest smile on your face before going into his brother’s room with the rest of the group. and over time, your greetings to yuta went from sweet smiles, to pats on the head, to ruffling up his hair occasionally, and to his personal favorite, the side hug.
you always were around in yuta’s growing life and always made sure he had gotten something to eat that day, or if he had a ride to soccer practice, or if his phone had enough battery to last him through his tutoring sessions, or even if he had someone going to watch his soccer games in the mornings (which was never).
yuta was fifteen when he realized he liked you.
“so no one is going?” you asked sharply, “again?”
yuta shrugged. “its at eight o’ clock in the morning. i don’t expect anyone to, not even you-“
“well i’m going,” you said simply, putting the rest of your textbooks away in your locker and slamming it shut. “geez not even your brother goes to your games? i’m gonna yell at him later.”
“it’s fine.” yuta shook his head and gave you a small smile, his insides twisting and contorting with an overwhelming boy crush for you. “a lot of my teammates parents don’t go either, usually only to the first two of the season.”
but not you. you went every single time, even going as far as dragging his brother with you so he could have family there to watch him play. yuta always made sure to turn and raise a hand to you from across the field, waving it side to side before getting back in the game, his heart thumping wildly in his chest with an insane sense of adrenaline to do good on the field and show off— because you were watching.
yuta was still fifteen when he realized you liked his brother.
firstly, he felt utterly stupid for not picking up on it before. yuta was always too busy staring at you and memorizing every inch and detail of your face to realize that you were looking at his brother the same way yuta looked at you. he was too busy running around in soccer fields and eating the ham sandwiches you always made for him after practices to realize how red your face would get when you sat next to his brother during his games, or when you gave him sandwiches. yuta was too busy drooling over you in his mind that sometimes you wouldn’t even notice him waving at you from across the field like he always did, your eyes trained on his brother instead, that sweet smile he was all too familiar with shining for someone else.
it wasn’t fair. it wasn’t fair at all. yuta felt like his brother always got everything and he always ended up with scraps. yuta never got a friend group like his, or a stellar reputation in a sport like he did, or people at his beck and call everywhere he went, or nominations for pointless shit like homecoming king.
but yuta didn’t give a flying fuck about any of that. he didn’t want any of that. he wanted you. just you.
but he couldn’t have you.
yuta was sixteen when he realized he was in love with you.
he had been for a while actually, and he knew it, but the thought alone of you liking his stupid brother only fueled the fire of denial to save himself from getting hurt more than he already was.
but it was absolutely pouring rain that day, his tutoring session having been cancelled last minute due to the weather, and because of this he had no ride home and no umbrella to even attempt at walking home, not that he could anyways seeing as it would take him thirty minutes to do so. yuta absolutely could not take that chance. he had his laptop in his backpack with all of his school work, and worst of all, his final project that he had been working on since the beginning of the school year, a precious green portfolio filled with notes worth more than gold to him.
yuta grumbled as he scuffed his feet against the concrete at the front of his school under a rooftop, lips pressed into a thin line in annoyance. his parents were at work, there was no way they could just drop everything and go to him (not that they would anyways), and his brother was too busy hanging out with you doing god knows what at god knows where— so even calling you was out of the picture.
at the mere thought of you hanging out with his brother, he sighed softly, sadly, and slumped down on a blue bench with his cold hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket, eyes trained to the ground.
heavy pit pats of rain smacked against the ground as he sat there in thought, the sounds of cars zooming down the wet streets as the only source of life around besides himself, seeing as it was already late in the day and everybody else had gone home. without him even noticing, the front doors beside him creaked open as he sat there grumbling.
“yuta?”
his head snapped up upon hearing your pretty voice call out to him, his eyes wide as he saw you standing there with an umbrella.
“what are you doing here?” he asked softly, standing up. yuta looked at you then and noticed your eyes were red and tired, and a shock of worry shot up his spine.
“i was-”
“are you okay?” he asked quickly. “your eyes are red.”
“oh really?” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes with your palm, waving him off. “it’s nothing, i didn’t even notice.”
he pursed his lips, concern written all over his face as he took in your defeated expression, but before he could press any further, you spoke again.
“why aren’t you in tutoring?”
“oh they cancelled last minute,” he stuffed his hands further into his jacket and looked to the side. “i don’t have a ride home now because of it, and i can’t even walk home because it’s raining hard as fuck and i have my laptop in my backpack.”
you hummed in understanding, and even though it looked like the worst possible thing ever just happened to you, you gave him that same sweet smile he craved every time he saw you. “let’s walk to your house together. i have an umbrella we can try and fit under.”
he looked at you incredulously. “no no! it’s okay! you live down the street i don’t want to make you walk thirty minutes in the rain with me and thirty back-”
“it’s okay!” you laughed. “i would never leave you here by yourself yu, you know that.”
oh how he loved when you called him that.
his shoulders slowly relaxed, a wobbly cute smile spreading across his face, his cheeks a fuzzy pink. “okay.”
you walked together in a comfortable silence, your little umbrella just barely covering the both of you and yuta’s cheeks were still an intense pinky shade due to the close proximity, his steamy breath basically fanning the side of your ear as he huddled close to you.
after a few minutes spent walking on the sidewalk, yuta spoke up again.
“why are your eyes red?”
you immediately froze, but relaxed quickly.
“just tired s’all,” you responded weakly, but the little wobbling of your bottom lip told him otherwise.
yuta slowly lifted his hand and reached out, placing it softly on top of yours and clenching over the stem of the umbrella. the action caused you both to stop walking, your curious eyes snapping to his.
his palm felt like it was on absolute fire at the feeling of your soft hand under his, yuta’s breath trembling as he breathed out.
he swallowed. “can you please tell me why.”
your eyes flooded with tears then, and you shut them tightly as you dropped your forehead solemnly to rest against his shoulder, your frame shaking with quiet sobs escaping your lips.
yuta’s eyes softened and he quickly took the umbrella from you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders in a tight hug. his heart thumped so hard against his chest that he could hear it ringing through his ears.
he patted the back of your head gently. “what happened? what’s going on?”
you shook your head against his chest.
“y/n..” he sighed worriedly, running a soothing hand over your shaking back now.
“i have a crush on your brother,” you sobbed.
he knew. god he knew. but hearing you say it out loud broke his heart ten times more than it did when he found out on his own.
yuta slightly pulled back, bending his knees a little to look at you at eye level, his hand on your shoulder.
“i know.”
your eyebrows furrowed, more silent tears spilling from your eyes. “you know?”
yuta nodded, smiling sadly at you as he wiped your tears with his thumb, your eyes closing as he did so. “i spend almost every second of my life with you, of course i know. i noticed.”
you sniffed.
“weren’t you just with him now?” he asked.
your eyes shut tightly again, eyebrows contorted in pain as you nodded. “i confessed to him. i wanted to tell him before we graduated next month.”
you lifted your hands and covered your face, sobbing into them. “i’ve loved him since middle school.”
loved?
yuta’s shoulders slumped as he stared straight ahead, feeling like he wanted to crawl into a deep dark hole and stay there.
“he-“ you hiccuped. “he rejected me.”
his head snapped down immediately, eyebrows furrowing in a mix of disbelief and anger. ��huh? he rejected you?”
you nodded, dropping your hands from your eyes and burying your head in his chest.
“why? what did he say?”
“he said he didn’t feel the same way—” you stopped for a moment to even out your breaths. “and that he was sorry.”
yuta scoffed, shaking his head. “what a big fucking loser.”
you snorted at that, and he looked down at you fondly, relieved you laughed.
“he… he thanked me for everything that i’ve done for your family though, especially you.”
he stayed silent.
“he said he was thankful that i was like another sibling for you, and that i took care of you.”
another sibling?
yuta didn’t say anything, that phrase like a slash through his heart while he still thought about how much of a fucking idiot he was to reject you. you, out of anyone deserved to get everything you wanted. you were selfless, incredibly sweet, the most gorgeous human being to ever walk this earth, and you had done so much for everyone that you neglected your own needs all of the time.
how could he not love you back? how could his brother not see the angel in his life that loved him, that sentiment alone an absolute privilege to have? something he would kill for?
yuta knew he shouldn’t make this about himself. he knew you were absolutely hurting and heartbroken, but he just had to know. it was eating him alive inside and out and over and over again as he kept thinking about it.
“is that how you see me?”
“hu-huh?” you hiccuped, picking your head up from his chest to look at him.
“as another sibling. is that how you see me?”
you blinked up at him, your eyes trailing over his furrowed eyebrows and worried gaze, and you hesitated for a moment, not knowing exactly why.
but you nodded, slowly. “you’re my best friend, yu. you’re not just anyone to me i care a lot about you. more than most people in my life.”
for a moment, yuta looked at you blankly, his mind unable to properly register your words. he didn’t know whether he wanted to cry, call up his brother and yell at him, kiss you, or run away.
a part of him knew that too, that you only saw him as a sibling. but like everything else in his life, he buried it down and chose to pretend like it didn’t exist for the sake of his heart.
but regardless of you not returning his feelings, he would rather be something to you than nothing at all. he would rather make some type of difference in your life and have a special spot, than be an absolute nobody to you.
so he smiled. he smiled with soft sad eyes and nodded, pulling you back in and resting his cheek against the top of your head. “you’re my best friend too.”
yuta didn’t see you around much at his house after that, which he understood.
but you still texted yuta everyday and hung out with him sometimes at school, and you still went to his games and practices and made him ham sandwiches after, and you still gave him that sweet smile he loved so so much.
but he never missed how sad you got around his brother, even at the mere mention of him. he never missed how your eyes stayed glued to the ground or had a far off look to them, your arms wrapped around yourself with a safe distance between you both.
when you graduated high school, yuta was a brat the entire ceremony. he was pissed. so pissed that you were two years older than him and that he wasn’t going to see your pretty self around school anymore, which was pretty much the only reason he tolerated it in the first place.
but when your graduating class threw their caps up into the air and his family went down to congratulate his brother, yuta made a beeline for you instead.
and behind that scowl on his face that he had the entire day, his eyes were glossy.
yuta never cried.
when you noticed, your shoulders instantly dropped and you ran to his open arms, practically throwing yourself on him. “yuuu! don’t cry for me!”
“who said i’m crying?” yuta grumbled into your shoulder.
you pulled back and smiled at him, “i’m gonna miss you the most.”
yuta smiled, but then faltered, and a sliver of fear shot up his spine. was this the last time he was going to see you? was this the start of you both slowly distancing, and then ultimately falling apart? were you still going to call him and text him everyday?
as if you could sense his fear, you quickly shook your head. “you’re literally stuck with me for life. you will never find another best friend to replace me, you got it?”
you waved your little index finger at him sternly, and yuta laughed. “i got it.”
yuta was nineteen when he almost kissed you.
after you graduated high school, luckily you went to a college that was only about a thirty minute drive from his place. you were still in yuta’s life, if not way more than it was before, which he thanked his lucky stars for. you went from being a best friend of his brothers, to being only his best friend, as you and his brother didn’t really talk anymore after high school.
and to that, yuta was happy.
and when he graduated high school, you of course were there, crying and pinching his cheeks and hugging him so tight his back cracked a little bit.
he didn’t go to the same college you did (although he definitely tried but didn’t get in) and went to one that was about forty five minutes away from home, one he commuted to everyday like you did for yours.
you both got so much closer that you obliviously acted like a couple, when you weren’t. yuta would pick you up from class and drive you to lunch, pay for all of your meals and anything you practically wanted despite you fighting him every time on it. he would kiss your forehead and your cheek and throw his arm around your shoulder when you walked, he would call you baby and compliment you every single day, and he would sleep over at your house almost all of the time, your head on his chest and his arm wrapped around your torso.
he knew best friends weren’t really supposed to act like this, but did you? you both had grown so accustomed to it that it wasn’t a weird thing for you both, but the constant questions from your mutual friends or even each others parents was a dead giveaway that it in fact, was not how best friends were supposed to act.
but neither of you seemed to care.
“stop moving yu!” you whispered harshly as you applied an aloe vera mud mask to his face. yuta snickered, dodging your fingers every time they came close to applying the mask, with the only reason he was doing it being because it made you laugh.
you were both sat on your fluffy pink rug in the middle of your room in your pajamas, surrounded by all of your skincare essentials and even the fancy products you only pulled out on special occasions. it was one in the morning at this point and you both were still up, trying to keep your laughter to a minimum in attempts at not waking up your parents downstairs.
“baby this stuff smells kind of funky,” he commented as you applied some to his cheek.
“the funkier the better,” you responded, focused. “kind of smells like you.”
he pinched your side and you giggled, flinching away. “i’m kidding! i’m almost done, don’t move.”
yuta listened and stayed still, watching your concentrated pretty face that was practically inches away from his as you applied the mask to the rest of his face, his poor heart almost giving out.
once you were done, you smiled triumphantly and wiped your fingers with a warm damp towel. “all done!”
yuta smiled fondly at you and kissed your cheek. “thanks. is this what you put on every night?”
you shook your head, “not every night, only when i want my skin to look extra good for special occasions.”
“which is..?”
“it’s usually when you invite me over to your family events or when we eat dinner at that one really nice place by your school.”
yuta stopped at that and he felt his heart clench at your words. he didn’t know why and he usually didn’t let it, but his mind was making him believe that maybe…
no.
he relaxed again, humming in acknowledgement. you picked up a circular pink little tub compartment thing and unscrewed the cap, dipping your ring finger in the shimmery product.
“what’s that?” he asked softly, nodding his head to it.
“it’s my lip scrub!” you responded enthusiastically, lifting your ring finger and scooting closer to him. his eyes looked straight at you as you slid your finger over his lips. “it has kind of like a rough texture, it’s supposed to exfoliate your lips and make them really soft.”
his cheeks slowly turned pink, his eyes trailing down to your lips as you sat back, finished.
“here— put some on me now so you can feel what i’m talking about,” you handed him the little tub and he dipped his index finger in, swallowing the lump in his throat.
he timidly lifted his hand and pressed his finger to your waiting perfect lips, softly and gently running the product on your bottom lip before going to the top, his eyes mesmerized and nearly drooling.
yuta was practically tracing you, wanting to burn forever the shape of your mouth into his brain to remember for the rest of his life, wanting nothing more than to press his lips on yours.
but he inhaled sharply and quickly dropped his hand. “i’m finished.”
you pressed your lips together and spread the product around, “did you feel it?”
he shakily nodded, wiping his finger on the warm damp towel before handing it over for you to do the same.
you held up a corner of the towel to his lips and gently wiped the scrub away, “and now they’re soft.”
you passed the towel back over to him, and you sat back, eagerly waiting for him to do the same.
yuta swallowed again and mimicked you, except he was much slower, much more gentle over your plush lips as he subconsciously leaned closer to you that by the time he was done, his nose almost bumped with yours.
with eyes half lidded, he stared at your lips in a daze, licking his bottom lip slightly as you looked at him with wide eyes. he wanted to, so badly, to just grab your face and press your lips together, to pour the love he’s had for you for the past four years out and cherish you with everything that he has.
“yu?” you spoke softly, your voice barely above a whisper, your breath fanning against his lips.
his eyes immediately snapped to yours and he flinched back like a deer in headlights. “so— so when do i take this off?” he pointed to his face. “the mud mask.. when does it come off?”
you looked at him curiously, your eyebrows slightly pinched together as you tried to make sense of what was happening, if anything even really happened.
“almost..” you responded, unfocused. “in about five minutes.”
yuta quickly nodded and pressed his lips into a thin line, his hands clenched so hard into tight fists that his knuckles turned white.
he couldn’t look you in the eye. what the fuck was he doing? he was going to scare you away if he kept doing things like this, if he kept almost slipping up and doing something that could jeopardize your friendship with him.
your trust.
you nudged his shoulder with your finger, and he finally looked at you.
“is the face mask bothering you that much?” you said with a silly smile, and yuta physically deflated, affection pumping through his system.
“no baby,” he shook his head. “i like it! i think i should keep it on for the rest of the night and go to class with it tomorrow morning.”
you snorted and shook your head, “don’t be mean.”
he raised his hands up frantically, “i’m not! you think everybody has the privilege of getting a free facial by their pretty best friend?” he held up his index finger and wiggled it side to side. “i don’t think so.”
you giggled, so much, and grabbed the warm damp towel again, scooting closer to him by your knees. you began wiping away the mask on his face, being careful of not going too rough in fear of accidentally irritating and hurting him. yuta held you by the hips, assisting in keeping your balance and rubbing little circles into your stomach with his thumbs.
your cheeks went a little pink after a bit.
as the rest of the night went on, and when you both finally settled into bed facing each other— his hand on the side of your hip, you softly traced the rather dark bags under his eyes and frowned.
“you need to get more sleep, yu. i think you’ve had these bags since you were fifteen.”
“it’s because i always grind so i can buy you a big white house with a wiener dog and a picket fence.”
you laughed a little too loud and slapped a hand over your mouth, leaning forward and resting your forehead against his as your shoulders shook. when you settled down, you removed your hand and smiled sweetly.
“only if the house comes with you.”
yuta’s breath hitched, and his eyes searched yours desperately, for any indication that maybe, just maybe, you…
no.
“what… you want me as a roommate?”
you playfully rolled your eyes and gently shoved his shoulder.
yuta was twenty years old when he confessed to you.
it was also the first big fight you guys ever had in your entire years of knowing each other.
your relationship stayed the same, two peas in a little pod through college that never seemed to go to one place without the other, so much so that when you did, people would often ask where the other half was. he loved it. he loved you so much, and he found it harder and harder and more heart breaking for him as the years went by watching you not be his in any way shape or form.
every time he visited your campus or went with you to your college parties, he noticed the lurking eyes it seemed like every guy had on you everywhere you went, and it agitated yuta more than anything else. he was still a stubborn brat, and instead of doing something about it and maybe telling you how he feels, he just endures the pain and scowls at their glances, leading you through crowds by the hand or by the small of your back.
he never really indulged in the traditional college experience like you did, and never ever talked to any other girl besides you. he never wanted to or had any interest in doing so, regardless of you returning his feelings or not. you also never really talked to any other guy besides yuta or made any mention of your dating life, people mostly assuming you both were.
yuta weaved through the crowd, trying to spot a place for the both of you to sit while you went to get drinks from the kitchen. upon finally breaking free from the pile of dancing sweaty bodies, he recognized one of your girl friends and a couple of others sitting on a long lounge sofa, her eyes perking up.
“y/n’s boyfriend! you came?”
he stopped a bit, then smiled wide.
“yeah! she’s in the kitchen now by the way, she’ll be over here in a second.”
and when you did come over, already a bit tipsy from the line of shots you got pulled into while getting drinks, you walked over to where yuta sat while greeting your friends, handing him a red solo cup. and instead of sitting in the spot yuta had saved for you right beside him, you settled neatly on his lap.
his eyes nearly bulged out of their eye sockets as you swung an arm around his shoulders for support and made yourself comfortable. you had never done something like this, and he swallowed the huge lump in his throat as trembling hands settled around your waist and over your lap. his arm tingled with the feeling of your thighs underneath, afraid to put his hands anywhere near them in fear of making you uncomfortable or accidentally grabbing your face and making out with you.
but the chance of that happening wasn’t anywhere near impossible, as he was already tipsy by his drink and his hand was already gently caressing over the skin of your soft plush thighs.
best friends don’t do things like this.
and he did not give a single fuck.
your boobs were practically shoved up in his face, his pinky cheeks absolutely blazing as his eyes darted to every corner of the house and anywhere else that wasn’t your tits, his lips itching to feel, to taste.
the night progressed and the both of you got increasingly more and more drunk, clinging on to each other on the couch or stumbling through the house, laughing when one of you would trip and almost face plant on the hardwood floors, leaning on to each other for support.
“your boyfriend almost knocked over the tub of tropical mix in the kitchen!” your girl friend yelled over the loud booming music, laughing.
yuta expected you to correct her, but you didn’t, and only laughed along with her.
“no it wasn’t him! it was me,” you giggled drunkenly, your arms around his neck as his were tight around your waist, your group standing off to the side of the dance floor. “he had to grab me and pull me from it!”
and that’s how it often was, just you and him. you taking care of him and him taking care of you in every way possible, trying to pay you back for all of the years you spent being there for him when he was younger and way more, simply because he wanted to.
and on a night where yuta was studying for finals in his room, his brother that was visiting from college came in and sat down on the edge of his bed.
“you studying?” he asked.
yuta nodded, not bothering to take his eyes away from his notebook, still scribbling down his notes. he never really had the best relationship with his brother, much less after what had happened with you getting rejected by him.
his brother took a deep breath through his nose and nodded. “i um… are you still friends with y/n?”
that caught his attention, and yuta’s eyes lifted from his notes to look at him. “yes? i’m with her like, most of the time. if you haven’t noticed.”
“no i have,” his brother murmured. “how is she?”
yuta took a second to respond. “she’s good.”
“that’s good that’s good. does she um- does she still have the same number?”
yuta put down his pencil and leaned back against his desk chair. “why?”
“i wanted to just catch up with her is all,” he shrugged. “i saw her when you brought her here for mom’s birthday and i hadn’t seen her since graduation.”
“catch up with her?” yuta mumbled. “since when do you give a shit about y/n?”
his brother scoffed. “i always have, yuta.”
“didn’t seem like it when you rejected her and started dating one of her close friends like the next day.”
his brother didn’t say anything, and yuta rolled his eyes at the lack of response, picking his pencil back up to continue his work.
“i still have her on social media and see what she’s up to… she posts you a lot. are you guys like— a thing?”
yuta bit the inside of his cheek. “no.”
his brother visibly relaxed for whatever reason and nodded. “i just want to talk to her again, is all. maybe buy her dinner—”
yuta pushed his textbook away, dropped his pencil again and spun around, looking at him with narrowed eyes. “fuck no.”
his brother scoffed. “i’m not asking for permission—”
“fuck no.”
“yuta i’m your brother i literally took you to school everyday and took care of you—”
“y/n did that.” yuta cut him off. “y/n gave me rides to school when i didn’t have my license and bought me food when i didn’t have a job. she also came to every single one of my games regardless of the weather and helped me with my homework when i was too stupid to figure it out on my own, everything you should’ve done.”
“that’s not true—”
“yes it is.” yuta crossed his arms in annoyance. “she didn’t have to do any of that. she never had to take care of me the way that she did but she did it anyways. she took on your role because you were too busy being a dingus doing god knows what and she knew that. y/n has done more for me than you’ve ever done in your entire twenty two years of living.”
his brother sat there in silence, yuta’s heavy angry breathing being the only thing heard in the room.
“okay well—” his brother stood from his bed and walked over to the door. “i’m just going to text her—”
“why the fuck are you gonna meddle into her life now? what… are you bored? are you not satisfied with whatever fucking girl you find up there at school?” yuta threw his arms up in irritation, his blood beginning to boil. “you treated her like shit. like absolute dog shit when you ignored her and avoided her for months after she confessed to you. do you understand how disrespectful that is?”
“whatever man it was high school—”
“and what, that gives you a pass to treat her like that? when that happened i was sixteen picking up the pieces you shit all over at your grown age—”
“i’m leaving.”
and with that, his brother walked out and slammed the door shut, and yuta was left absolutely red. red with anger he had never felt before in his life as he grabbed his notebook and chucked it across the room. he hated how casual he spoke of you, like you were just another girl he was going to try and get to know and fuck— to then leave without another word like his brother’s been doing his whole fucking life to girls. but not to you, it couldn’t happen to you.
and it was like yuta was going through the five stages of grief because then he was afraid. what if you let his brother back into your life? what if you fell for him again? you’d done it before the chances were not zero of you doing it again.
yuta didn’t want to lose you. he would rather gauge his eyes out and eat them for breakfast.
with that, yuta stumbled through his room putting on his shoes and snatching his car keys from his night stand, running down the hall and slamming the front door shut before getting in his car.
the drive was only about fifteen minutes to your house, and he felt so bad that it was nearly two in the morning and he was most likely going to wake you up, but he couldn’t stand it. he was going absolutely crazy, everything in him gnawing and eating him alive, his brother having pushed every single button in his body and more.
his tires screeched as he pulled into your driveway, thankful that your parents were away on a getaway trip as he slammed his car door shut and made his way up to your front door. yuta rang your doorbell twice before you finally opened it.
slowly, you peeked your tired eye through the slit, and your body immediately relaxed at the sight of him. “oh my god yuta, you scared the absolute shit out of—”
you stopped, your face falling at his livid expression and the way his chest heaved erratically. “yu? are you okay? what’s going on—”
but yuta only pushed passed you and trudged up your stairs without another word. dumbstruck, you closed your front door with a click and locked it, following him up the stairs and into your room.
“what’s wrong?”
“my brother is visiting from college.” he mumbled, sitting stiff on your desk chair. you moved to stand in front of him.
“…you mentioned that yeah—”
“and he… he told me that he wants to reach out to you.”
your eyebrows furrowed, taken aback. “me? for what?”
“he says he wants to catch up with you, see how you’re doing. be friends again i guess.”
yuta’s eyes remained stuck to the floor like glue, and you remained silent as you processed his words, confused out of your mind.
“i mean… i mean i guess? i guess that’s fine—”
his head snapped up, “that’s fine?”
you shrugged, “yes? i don’t see the big deal i don’t—”
“baby—” he shook his head in disbelief. “he absolutely broke you and treated you like nothing in high school, and you’re fine letting him back into your life? great.”
you narrowed your eyes at him. “why are you being like that? he just wants to be friends again and that’s fine with me—”
yuta scoffed. “he doesn’t deserve it! he doesn’t deserve you—”
“yuta, whatever happened between your brother and i was years ago! i’m over it! this isn’t a big fucking deal!”
you hated fighting with him, god how much you hated it, and the way that he looked at you now was making you absolutely sick.
“so you’re just gonna be friends with him again?” he shrugged, looking at you with narrowed eyes.
“yeah?”
“you’re fucking stupid,” he spat, getting up from your desk chair and walking over to the door, reaching for your doorknob.
you instantly grabbed his shoulder and spun him around to face you. “what the fuck is wrong with you?!”
“what’s wrong with me?!” he raised his voice, jabbing a finger to his chest. “what’s wrong with you! do you not remember how bad you got when he did what he did?! do you really think i would stand here okay with you rekindling your little love for my brother?”
you scoffed, “my little love?!”
and before you knew it, angry tears were streaming down your face. you hated the way he was talking to you, and you didn’t know how your argument escalated so quickly and so drastically as you wiped your cheeks furiously.
and at the sight of you crying, yuta faltered slightly, his eyes softening.
“why do you think i still love him? i don’t! i haven’t since he rejected me!—”
“who says you won’t start again?” he spoke lowly, arms crossed over his chest. “my brother never had to lift a fucking finger for you to be head over heels for him. you don’t give a shit about yourself and you’re willing to throw yourself at him again—”
“shut up.” you spat, sobs raking through your body. “the fact that you’re stuffing a bunch of fucking words into my mouth and assuming i’m going to jump into your brothers arms is bullshit.”
“i—”
“is this how low you think of me?”
“no baby i don’t—”
“yes you clearly do because everything that’s come out of your mouth—”
“no! no i’m sorry i don’t—”
“then why—”
yuta shoved his hands into his hair exasperated, “because i love you!”
he let his arms fall limp, his eyes glossy and red with the most gut wrenching look on his face that read pure exhaustion. you had never seen him so torn.
“i love you and i love you and i have since since i was fifteen,” his voice shook with each word, hands trembling at his sides. “more than a best friend, more than anything in this world, and i never saw you like another sibling like you did for me.”
“fi.. fifteen?” you spoke so softly he almost didn’t hear you.
he nodded sadly, silent tears slipping down his cheeks and you automatically reached up, softly wiping them away with your thumbs as he closed his eyes, much like how yuta did when you got your heart broken by his brother on that rainy day.
yuta never cried.
“i swallowed it. you loved my brother and i swallowed it. i didn’t give a shit if you only saw me as a sibling because i would rather make some type of mark in your life and be in it than not have you at all. but i can’t take it anymore.”
he let out a sob, and he instantly shoved his face in the crook of his arm in embarrassment.
“yu…”
“you mean absolutely everything to me baby,” his voice was muffled a bit by his elbow, and after roughly wiping his eyes on the sleeve of his sweater, he dropped his arm to look at you again. “i would do absolutely a-anything for you. you’re precious to me and the prettiest girl i have ever laid my eyes on and will ever lay my eyes on.”
he hiccuped and crossed his arms over his chest, staring up at your ceiling. “but i know you don’t love me like i love you. i’ve known for years and i just can’t bring myself to let you go. it’s so bad that i would rather you break my heart over and over again than let you go for the sake of my wellbeing and watch you walk out of my life—”
“yuta, can you please look at me?”
“i— i can’t,” he shook his head as his voice trembled, tears slipping from the sides of his eyes as he continued to stare at your ceiling. “i can’t do it—”
you slowly reached out and cupped his wet cheeks in the palm of your hands, tilting his face down gently to look at you, your eyes filled with remorse at the defeated look on his face.
“why didn’t you tell me?” you asked softly. “why didn’t you tell you were hurting so much?”
he shook his head slowly in your hands. “it’s not fair to you. i didn’t want to put you in a difficult position—”
“what difficult position, yu?” you spoke so gently, so sweetly to him that he almost fell to his knees. “how could you have kept this in for five years? i can’t even imagine—” you hiccuped, “i hate that you were hurting because of me-“
your voice began to contort again into sobs, and he quickly shook his head. “no baby no, it was not because of you, you did nothing wrong. you did the exact opposite.”
you wiped more of his tears with your fingers as he spoke, listening intently.
“no one gave a shit about me the way you did. not even my own parents, and not even my stupid brother that pretended like i practically didn’t exist. you were the only one that was there and you didn’t have to be. you could’ve easily ditched me at any given point and you never did, and i can’t thank you enough for giving me a reason to keep going.”
he wiped his eyes. “and that’s why i fell in love with you so hard because you were so selfless and sweet and i love your smile. i don’t think i could ever make up for everything you’ve done—”
“but you have!—” you interjected, but yuta only shook his head.
“no i haven’t. i’m a stubborn asshole who just said a bunch of shit five minutes ago that i didn’t mean and i only hurt you and i never wanted that—”
“yuta.” you spoke firmly. “you’ve literally done more for me than anyone else in my entire life and i hate that you can’t see that or give yourself credit. you were there for me when i went absolutely insane after your brother rejected me even though you loved me then. you put your own feelings aside to take care of me baby..”
you softly took his hands and led him to sit with you on the bed, wiping his wet cheeks with your sleeve.
“do you not remember when even though you didn’t have a job, any chance you got money you would spend it on me instead of yourself?” you laughed softly. “the minute you got your license you drove me anywhere i wanted… and even to little things like the store because you said you didn’t want me to spend gas money.”
yuta slightly smiled.
“you never ditched me either, when there was every opportunity you could’ve. you always make sure i eat and get enough sleep… and you make me so happy yu, i wish you could see how much i miss you when you’re not around.”
he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and leaned in, softly planting a kiss to your cheek. you smiled warmly.
“who told you i didn’t love you back?”
yuta froze. “you did?”
“when?”
“the day my brother rejected you?” he cocked his head to the side. “i had asked you if you saw me as another sibling and you said yes.”
you threw your head back and moaned, “oh my god yu, of course in that moment because i was stupid and into your brother and i had just gotten rejected!”
you deflated and smiled at him warmly then, your eyes shining with emotions he didn’t allow himself to believe were there. for five years, yuta forced himself to believe you could never return his feelings as a form of protection, and now there was a huge wall in his brain that was itching to come down.
you scooted closer to him and wrapped your arms around his neck, your foreheads touching. “ask me again.”
“hm?” he was dazed, wide eyes staring into yours.
“ask me that question again,” you spoke softly. “the one from that day.”
yuta swallowed thickly, his breathing shaky through his nose, reiterating the phrase he played through his head like a broken record since it happened.
“as another sibling…” he murmured. “is that how you see me?”
you shook your head gently against his forehead, “no… to me—” you leaned back slightly and tilted your head to the side. “you look like the man i’ve been in love with for the past three years.”
silence. nothing.
and then, his eyes welled with tears as he tackled you down and just cried. he cried and he cried into your neck and shook like a little leaf, you holding him so unbelievably tight as your bottom lip wobbled. yuta’s arms were snaked around you as he held you with just as much force if not more.
half a decade. half a decade yuta spent hopelessly lovesick for you that your words burned over his entire body like a fever, his mind reeling and hazy. he held on to you so fucking tight and refused to let go of you, in fear that this was all just some horrendous sick dream and he was going to wake up alone in his bed without you.
you placed a hand on the back of his head as you hugged him, “i love you so much yuta that sometimes i feel like im going nuts.” you laughed softly. “it was always you… it’s been you that’s why i said earlier that i didn’t care if your brother wanted to be friends again, because i love you and i don’t give a shit about him and i’m sorry i made you upset—”
“no,” he lifted his head from the crook of your neck and looked at you, his cheeks flushed with dried up tears and red eyes. “that was just me being an absolute dick and scared of re-living high school all over again. i took that out on you and that wasn’t fair at all, baby. i’m sorry.”
you carded your fingers through his hair. “we both have things to be sorry about, and a lot of years to make up for.”
and finally, yuta grinned so big that his cheeks hurt.
“can i—“ he exhaled shakily. “can i kiss you?”
“please.”
and he smashed his lips against yours, greedily kissing you with so much desperation as he lip locked with you, his hands squeezing and roaming your body. the sound of your lips smacking was loud, and his kisses were so needy and sloppy against your soft plush lips that you squeaked at the intensity. you felt him grin again at your noise and he pulled away from you.
“i’ve wanted this for so long…” he breathed out, his breath fanning against your face as you tried to recover from what was probably the best kiss of your life. you nodded frantically, too dazed and caught up in the thought of his mouth on yours to respond with sentences that made sense.
he chuckled cutely at this, and he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “i love you and i love you.”
and since then, it was like the final wall had finally crumbled down, and yuta began to live like he was supposed to, like he was meant to, with you. his days of yearning and silent torment were over, and most of the time it still felt like a dream whenever he was by your side.
things stayed relatively the same between you two, as you now acknowledge how much of a couple you both actually were acting prior to yuta’s confession. the only major difference now though, was that yuta earned the privilege to call you his and give you sweet kisses as he picked you up from class, or when you make and hand him those ham sandwiches you always do just for him, only this time adorned with a honeyed kiss of your own.
sitting on his living room couch now, your head resting on his lap as a random horror movie played in the background, yuta’s fingers gently brushed over the features of your face as you stared at the tv, his eyes stuck to you like sticky lovesick glue.
you turned your head to look at him after a bit. “why don’t you start playing soccer again?” you hummed. “is there a team at your school?”
yuta nodded, “there is baby.”
“why don’t you try out?” you smiled sweetly at him, and his heart ached. “i always loved watching you play. i miss it.”
“okay,” he tapped your nose. “just for you.”
you rolled your eyes playfully. “and i’ll start dragging your brother with me again.”
yuta’s eyes flung open as his jaw dropped, and you snorted, giggling uncontrollably as he tickled and pinched at your sides. “i’m just kidding! i’m kidding! i’d rather die.”
he let out a boyish laugh, his eyes sparkling as he looked down at you. “as much as i hate him, i can’t thank him enough for being a stupid dingus.”
you quirked an eyebrow, “thank him? why?”
yuta gently and softly pinched one of your cheeks as he smiled at you, and it was then that you noticed the bags under his eyes were nearly gone. he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips, moving some of your hair away from your face after he did so.
“because he brought you to me.”
and you smiled, that same radiant sweet smile that made him fall in love with you in the first place, as you reached up and ran a tender finger under where his eye bags once stood, your voice light and airy as you spoke—
“i love you and i love you, yuta.”
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu gojo#jujutsu yuta#yuta okkotsu#yuta x reader#yuta okkotsu x reader#jjk x reader#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#jjk x you#jjk fluff#jjk fanfic#jujutsu geto#jujutsu nanami#jujutsu megumi#geto suguru x reader#nanami kento x reader#jjk yuta#gojo satoru#gojo x you#yuta x you#anime#manga#jjk smut#jujustsu kaisen x reader#yuta x y/n#gojo x y/n#yuta fluff#best friends to lovers
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Ok so this is on the angsty side, you can write this how you generally want but I do hope you keep the concept the same, you can add less angst if you want
Ok so
A replaced AU where MC is pretty much discarded by the brothers so they can pay more attention to the new exchange student. It starts off slowly at first, them saying they want to make sure RN(replacement name) knows their way around and that they’re new so they want to make them feel welcomed, but then it starts becoming where they stop hanging out with MC in general. They stop inviting them out, they forget to tell them food is ready or that they ordered food(they don’t even get them food either). MC just feels very forgotten
Ok so for the actual request now lol
Can you do pretty much this concept for a fic with MC who got attacked and really badly injured by another demon, was found by either Solomon or Simeon, and after they contacted Diavolo(and got MC bandaged and cleaned up) they all collectively decided(Diavolo, Barbatos, Simeon, Solomon, and even Luke) that they wouldn’t tell the brothers what happened. They wouldn’t even have MC go back to HOL, they let them stay at purgatory hall and would have Barbatos keep an eye on them when they were in RAD. They’ll wait to see how long it takes them to notice their absence. And months pass. Months of MC slowly healing from her trauma of being attacked and slowly learning how to be a basic human again. None of the brothers realize MC is even gone. They only notice once one of them need something from them and they ask if anyone has seen them. When they go to Diavolo to ask, he immediately reprimands and yells at them for not noticing the fact that they were gone for MONTHS. He asks where they were when MC was attacked and bleeding out on the floor and where they were when they were healing from that attack
They now all feel like shit and they just get the exact same reaction from Solomon and Simeon when they try and call them too. Everytime they see MC in public, they always have someone by their side, always ready to keep them away from them. When they do see MC from far away, they see how small they look, how they’re constantly looking around and flinching at any sudden movement or loud sound. They feel even worse by the day. They were all also blocked on MC’s DDD so they can’t even try and talk through messages or calls. They need to slowly regain their trust, if they even regain it at all.
Yeah that got a little angsty lol
Again you don’t have to make it as angsty as I described, you can make it as angsty as you want(I would love a good cry though lol)
Please please please and thank you! Take your time with this one if you need
this request vanished on me a couple times now so I grabbed it as soon as I saw it again! curse tumblr and whatever it’s on. really hope they get around to fixing that because it is so scary and nerve wracking to have something disappear on you like that
i can only assume the second ask was also you haha it was quite fun to read and really get into the idea you created :) i decided to use Rn for the replacement mc, like how I used Mc as a name, since i liked it so much
alright enough about that, i love my angst and it feels like you almost knew it haha. you asked and i will deliver! i veered off the idea a little, but i hope you enjoy :)
enjoy <3
bygone
It was hard being second best at anything. Constantly being passed over and just missing the mark of being best. It hurt, knowing you were so close yet so far from number one. But what you were to the brothers now was far worse than second best; forgotten.
You don't know when this all had started, and initially, you'd been forgiving, because the treatment Rn was getting was the treatment you wished you'd had when you arrived in the Devildom. You wouldn't want to wish a negative experience upon them, since you were in their shoes at one point. And yet after everything, you couldn't find a reason to blame them for anything.
It wasn't their fault they were in the Devildom. It wasn't their fault they were more likable than you. And it wasn't their fault you were attacked.
It was particularly gloomy that day, and it was so windy you almost got swept away a couple times. But the brothers didn't care and you knew it. Your Purgatory Hall friends were all busy at clubs, and while they'd offered a quiet corner for you to do your work in so they could walk you home, you refused. You didn't want to bother then even though you knew they didn't mind.
You thought the walk home would've been uneventful, like it usually was. You were right, and you made it home safely, until you realized you'd left an important textbook in your locker. You made it successfully back to RAD, and were in front of your locker trying to open it when you were slammed from behind into it. You must've hit your head, because everything after that was hazy and you struggled to recall what happened, or who attacked you. The next thing you remembered was Simeon hovering over you, looking more distressed than you'd ever seen him.
The morning after, you woke up with a pounding headache you thought was due to your morning alarm. You'd reached over to turn it off, but before you could, Luke rushed in the room and began scolding you for trying to get up. As he talked at you, his words went in one ear and out the other. The other members of Purgatory Hall, as well as Barbatos entered the room at some point. They all looked strained or disturbed in a way. When you asked what had happened, Solomon was the one to break the news to you. You didn't know quite how to feel, but you knew at the very least that you were finally in good hands.
After this, the four of them sat in the room with you, and just chatted with you. It was nice to feel welcome in such a casual space again. At some point, you realized you weren't at home, and were instead at Purgatory Hall. That was when they revealed their plan to just not tell the brothers, and that you were more than welcome to live with your friends at Purgatory Hall instead. You felt a weak smile form on your face. It was good to be wanted again.
As time passed by, you grew physically better thanks to the attentive care of your new housemates, but the same couldn't be said emotionally. In the comfort of home, you felt safe, especially surrounded by your wonderful support system. At first, you couldn't even bring yourself to leave the house, and the first time you saw one of the brothers again was a major setback, but you did what you could. Those around you gave you all the time you needed to heal, and you let them know you were finally ready to try and take that next step again.
Barbatos and Diavolo had invited the residents of Purgatory Hall over for a nice little tea party, which you were proud to say you were now included in. They’d told you to get dressed up to spend a nice afternoon with them and enjoy yourself. It was something to look forward to, so the night before, you laid out an outfit. The next morning, you woke up feeling excited for once. Your new support system seemed determined to make this the best day possible, and despite asking them not to jump through hoops for you, they went to whatever lengths possible just to see you smile.
You felt possible the happiest you’d ever been since before Rn arrived when you got to the castle. All the little D’s welcomed you enthusiastically and ushered the four of you into the castle. Diavolo was already seated, but got up as soon as you walked into the room. He greeted you with a hug and soon, the five of you were happily talking. Barbatos joined you at some point, and knowing you would insist he relax, he sat down with the promise to get up if you needed anything.
It was supposed to be perfect.
You were enjoying your second cup of tea when there was a frantic knock at the door. It was distant, but you could all hear the panic behind it. Barbatos was the first to get up and he announced he would check it out. The five of you glanced around at each other, but continued as normal. A couple minutes went by, and a little D flew into the room and pleaded with Diavolo for help. This alarmed all of you, but Diavolo had you sit back down while he went to go assist Barbatos. Solomon and Simeon exchanged glances, but did as he asked.
You began to hear yelling, and the door Diavolo had just left through burst open. An awfully familiar pair of blue eyes locked onto you. "Mc!" Mammon called out. You froze, not sure how to react. Solomon stood up, pushing his chair back and letting it scrape against the ground.
Before anyone could speak, Diavolo pushed past Mammon and stood directly in front of him, arms crossed. "I didn't give you permission to enter my home." You'd never seen Diavolo more serious. Mammon was hidden from view now, thankfully, but that couldn't stop the sound of his voice reaching your ears.
"You lied to us. Mc is here." Mammon's tone was so sharp, it nearly cut the tension in the room.
"Why would you do that? We miss them." Levi sounded more angry than you'd ever heard him. The noise of his tails thrashing angrily about against the marble floors echoed through the hall.
"Oh really? You miss them, you say? Did you miss them when they were alone because of your actions? Did you miss them when they were bleeding out in the halls of RAD? Did you miss them in the months of recovery? You were so consumed with Rn that you failed to notice the absence of the very person that solved many of your problems and brought your family back together." Diavolo had shifted into his demon form in the middle of his rant. You could feel the waves of anger peeling off of him, and you knew sure as hell that the brothers could feel it too.
The room was filled with silence again. Solomon moved to stand next to the future king. "You should go now." His voice was soft, but firm.
"I'll see them out." Barbatos was behind the brothers somewhere. They left without much resistance after they got a glimpse at your face. During the entire interaction, you felt silent tears streaming down your face. Luke leant over and tried to offer you a handkerchief with his name embroidered on the corner. When you didn't move to take it, he dabbed the tears from your face for you and embraced you tightly.
"I'm sorry about them, Mc." Diavolo walked back over to you and stood behind you.
"It's alright." You hugged Luke back. Diavolo joined in, causing Solomon and Simeon to as well. "I have you guys, don't I?"
#obey me#obey me!#obey me x reader#oneshot#gn reader#obey me shall we date#omswd#obey me! shall we date#obey me! shall we date?#obey me diavolo#obey me solomon#obey me simeon#obey me luke#obey me barbatos
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Whoops. - AU Jegulus oneshot
(This isn't the smut, guys! That's next on my list!)
Regulus is a TA for Professor Monty Potter and Monty keeps trying to set Regulus up with his son. Regulus always refuses, of course. But what happens when, at the end of the term, he goes to the Potter Christmas Party? Just a fun oneshot based off this post! Thanks to @sebbianas for the idea and @heartshiii for the request!
“I think he’s shown up to class a grand total of three times,” Monty murmurs, jerking his chin towards the last of the students exiting the auditorium.
Regulus chuckles and continues picking up the exam papers from the desks. “Still want to go with your ‘progressive-no-attendance-policy’ next semester?" he asks lightly as he brings the pile towards the Professor.
“Eh. If he aces the final, he obviously didn’t need my help, did he?” Monty shrugs, flashing Regulus a grin.
“And if he doesn’t?”
“Then maybe he’ll show up a bit more often when he has to retake the class,” Monty finishes, laughing in earnest, now.
Regulus chuckles again and surveys the empty room. “Need anything else before I go?”
“No, Regulus. You’ve been an excellent help. Best TA I’ve ever had, but don’t go telling anyone I have favorites,” Monty says, smirking a bit.
“Thanks, Professor Potter–” Regulus begins, only to be cut off.
“Monty.”
“Monty,” he agrees, still feeling a bit nervous using first names even after all these weeks. He’s been trained in etiquette since birth, after all.
“And since you’re now officially not my TA,” Monty says, smiling, “You’ll come to my house tonight for my holiday party? My son will be there,” he waggles his eyebrows comically at this, and Regulus rolls his eyes.
It’s been an ongoing topic ever since he and Regulus had talked about it earlier that term:
“That’s a nice bracelet,” Monty said absentmindedly as they corrected papers together.
“Ah. Thanks. My brother gave it to me,” Regulus said of the black and rainbow bracelet on his wrist.
But Monty was looking closer at the bracelet, now. “Can I ask-?”
“He gave it to me when I came out,” Regulus supplied, looking at the Professor hesitantly.
Monty seemed unsurprised at the admission, but he also seemed like he wanted to ask something. “Can I ask something that might be seen as unprofessional?”
Regulus felt a bit nervous at this. It had been years since he’d left his extremely unaccepting parents, gone to live with Sirius in a tiny little flat by themselves. They didn’t live together anymore, but those years had been difficult, and it'd taken a lot of work to accept himself. He still had a fear of people, specifically adults, being cruel about his sexuality. But he was also curious. “Yes?”
“My son…my son recently told my wife and I that he’s pansexual. Could you possibly be kind enough to give me some advice? About how to show him that I still feel the same about him?” Monty’s face was so genuine that Regulus almost burst into tears.
But instead, he began to talk. To tell about all the things he wished his parents had done.
Of course, ever since that day, Monty had been casually bringing up his son, and how he and Regulus might get along. But Regulus had always refused, trying to respect the boundaries of the TA-professor relationship. Also, he'd never admit it, but he likes Monty, and worries a bit about losing him as a mentor if things went wrong on a potential date.
But he can't exactly refuse to go to the party tonight. Not after everything Monty has done for him.
“I’ll be there,” he says with a small smile, and bids Monty goodbye.
-
He feels a bit nervous knocking on the door of the Potters that evening, but also reminds himself that he knows how to deal with a party. He knows how to small-talk and kiss up to people and make a good first impression.
He hates it all, of course. Hates everything that reminds him of the way he was raised. But he can do this.
So, when Mrs. Potter answers the door and pulls him into a hug, he’s quite surprised- he’s never been hugged at any fancy dinner party his family has ever thrown. But he still thanks her kindly for the invitation and hands her the bottle of wine he brought.
“Oh, you’re so sweet!” Mrs. Potter gushes, leading him inside.
It’s- crowded. There are a lot of people, all dressed nicely and drinking from fancy glasses. Some look to be closer to his age, while others are older. And in the middle of one of the rooms is-
“Sirius?” Regulus asks incredulously.
“Reggie!” Sirius cries, bounding forward, dragging a boy with him. “What’re you doing here?”
“Monty invited me…” Regulus murmurs, looking around for the man in question.
“Oh, Monty is around somewhere!” Mrs. Potter assures him, waving her hand carelessly. “Sirius, dear, you know Regulus?”
“Only for my whole life,” Sirius says with a wink. “Reggie’s my brother!”
Mrs. Potter gasps loudly. “This is your brother? Well, Regulus was Monty’s TA this semester!”
“He never tells me anything, ever since he moved on campus,” Sirius complains, leaning against the boy he brought along with a dramatic sigh. Then, he turns to Regulus. “The Potters are James’s parents.”
James. Regulus has heard of him. He and Sirius became friends at the start of University. Sirius has said a lot about him on their weekly phone calls, but they’ve never met.
“Well, I’ll leave you to it, then!” Mrs. Potter says, leaving Regulus with Sirius and his friend to answer the door again.
“Thanks, Mrs. Potter,” Regulus murmurs, only to be told, “Effie!” by both Sirius and Mrs. Potter.
“Can’t believe you’re here, Reg! Let’s get you something to drink, eh?” Sirius says excitedly, dragging the tall-but-quiet buy he’s still attached to with him.
“Now would be a good time to run,” Regulus murmurs to the boy.
“We share a flat. I can’t run far,” the man says with a grin as Sirius shrieks about seeing another friend.
Ah. So this is Remus. Well, this will be interesting.
-
Regulus was imagining a proper party. With suits and ties and a five-course seated meal and six different types of silverware and lots of networking.
Well, it was a party, alright. And people certainly had suits and ties. Or they did, about six drinks ago.
Because this party has drinks. Not just a few, but an everlasting amount. And people are enjoying them.
“Never been to a Potter Christmas Party before?” Remus asks him with a smirk as he stands in a corner and nurses his fourth- fifth?- drink, the room spinning just a tad.
“Didn’t realize I’d need a designated driver,” Regulus murmurs back, though he’s safe, as he took a cab.
“Sirius told me that last year he threw up in the bushes,” Remus admits with an evil grin.
“Charming,” Regulus laughs.
But the conversation seems to stutter to a halt.
Because he sees someone across the room. A boy.
Alright, it’s not just a boy. It’s– it’s the most beautiful human Regulus has ever seen. His dark hair is tousled and he wears the nerdiest circular glasses. His tan skin is almost caramel-colored and his grin is jaw-dropping. He’s dressed in a navy suit and tie, but Regulus can see his muscles rippling just a bit under his clothes.
And then Regulus loses his breath.
The boy is looking at him.
He stares back, unable to tear his eyes away.
And then the boy, very purposely, looks Regulus up and down. Slowly.
And then he grins. And turns away.
And Regulus feels all…fuzzy. But in the most pleasant way. “Shots? I need shots,” Regulus hears himself say in a hoarse voice.
It’s going to be a long night.
-
The man is everywhere. When Regulus goes with Sirius to get another shot, he’s there in the kitchen chatting with Mrs- Effie. And he looks Regulus up and down again, his expression hungry.
Regulus almost spits out his shot.
When Regulus moves to a dining room, he’s there, too. He just has to squeeze behind Regulus to get to the plate of cookies. And as he does so, his entire chest brushes against Regulus’s back.
“Excuse me,” his low voice whispers right into Regulus’s ear.
Regulus almost drops his plate.
When Regulus moves to a sitting room to continue talking with Remus, he sees the man there, too. He’s speaking with Sirius. Regulus is too far away to hear what they’re saying, but the man keeps looking at him.
And Regulus looks back.
-
At some point throughout the night, someone puts on Christmas music. It blares through a speaker and some of the guests are tipsily dancing. Sirius is trying to lead Effie in a waltz as they both giggle hysterically and Remus takes pictures from the side.
And the boy is there. Again.
Except now, he’s walking directly toward Regulus.
“Care to dance?” he murmurs, his gaze almost piercing through Regulus, to his very soul.
Luckily, he’s taken dance lessons before. “Alright,” he agrees a bit nervously.
The boy leads him to a quieter spot in the room, away from Sirius’s insanity, and Regulus tries not to react to how it feels to just hold his hand. He’s not in middle school, after all. He shouldn’t feel so giddy. It must be the alcohol.
They begin to do a sort-of waltz that involves mostly just turning in a circle to the soft music in the background. As they do so, the boy’s hand rests on Regulus’s waist, his thumb moving back and forth slowly, making Regulus’s toes tingle a bit.
“You haven’t been here before,” the boy murmurs softly, looking almost desperately into Regulus’s eyes. “I- I’d remember you.”
Regulus can’t resist. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks, pretending to be upset.
“I- no, I-”
“I’m joking,” he says with a smirk, and he feels the boy relax a bit.
“You’re…beautiful. That’s why,” the boy says, answering his earlier question.
And beneath the obvious attraction between them, Regulus senses that this boy is being genuine. And he almost melts right there. Nobody’s ever called him beautiful before. “Thank you,” he whispers.
“How am I doing at this dancing thing? My best friend says I’m terrible at it,” the boy asks, clearly trying to ease the tension, grinning wryly.
To be honest, he’s not great. But Regulus is just enjoying the way the boy’s hand is resting at his waist, making his skin there all hot. “You’re doing fine,” he allows, laughing, trying to resist the urge to pull the boy closer, so their bodies touch.
The boy shrugs, laughing, and Regulus is again stunned by his smile. “Well, I guess we all have our weaknesses. I just wanted an excuse to talk to you, really.”
And then they stare at each other, all attempts at conversations gone. And It’s cliché and ridiculous, but it’s like they’re the only people in the room. All Regulus can feel is the boy’s hand on his waist, the other clasped in his own. All he can see is the way the boy is staring at him- almost adoringly.
And then, they’re kissing.
And if Regulus liked the feeling of the boy’s hand on his waist, it’s nothing compared to the feeling of their lips together. It’s heat and perfection and desire but also somehow warm and gentle and caring. Regulus feels the want building in the base of his spine as suddenly, the boy’s hand lets go of his own and comes to the back of his neck to pull gently at his hair.
Maybe it’s the alcohol, or maybe Regulus is going crazy, but suddenly, he wants more. Fuck the fact that this is his Professor’s Christmas party.
But at least the boy seems to be on the same page, because as they separate, he grabs Regulus’s hand and drags him along yet another hallway, up some stairs, and into a bedroom.
And before he can really contemplate what they’re doing, he’s slammed up against the wall of the bedroom, the door closes, and the boy’s lips are all over him.
“Is this alright?” the boy murmurs gently, grabbing hesitantly at the hem of Regulus’s shirt, and he only has to nod once before his shirt is ripped off his body, followed quickly by the boy’s own jacket, tie, and shirt.
And God, his hands. They’re everywhere. Cool against Regulus’s hot skin, tracing against his pale chest as lips and teeth move along his neck, and he lets out a moan that is quite embarrassing, but it only seems to spur the boy on more.
He feels like he’s floating, the way the boy worships him, kissing seemingly everywhere at once- his neck and jaw and lips and shoulder.
And then two things happen simultaneously.
The boy’s hands start to move. It’s as if they’ve read Regulus’s mind, because all he can think is Fuck, lower, lower, yes, damnit, touch me lower.
But just as the hands are finally drifting over his waistband, the door opens.
“Jamie, you’re supposed to be sociali- oh!”
And to Regulus’s absolute horror, it’s Monty. Walking in the bedroom. To him and a half-naked boy.
He wants to run. Or hide. Or throw up.
But it all gets decidedly more confusing when Monty, who previously just looked dumbfounded, bursts out laughing.
He and the boy look at each other and back again, and Regulus is a bit relieved to see he looks confused, too.
“What-?”
But Monty finally catches his breath and says, “Well…I’m glad you two have, erm, met! James, this is Regulus, the TA I told you about! And Regulus, this is my son, James!”
Well. Whoops.
-
“Remember last year?” James murmurs into Regulus’s ear as they set out what feels like hundreds of bottles of wine for the annual Potter Christmas Party.
“Vividly,” Regulus says, but he hides a smile.
“Suppose we should do that again this year, but finish what we start- ow!” James shrieks, trying to turn away from Regulus’s light punch.
Regulus just rolls his eyes at his boyfriend. “Shut up, Potter.”
Leave comments and kudos here <3
#marauders#harry potter#marauders era#fanfic#marauders fandom#harry potter marauders#sirius black kinnie#regulus black kinnie#jegulus#the marauders era#marauders fanfiction#marauders fic#the marauders#james fleamont potter#james x regulus#james potter#james potter is a simp#james potter x regulus black#james and regulus#regulus arcturus black#regulus black#regulus deserved better#james loves regulus#my fic#fanfiction#harry potter fanfiction#ao3fic#ao3 author#ao3 writer#ao3 fanfic
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May I Have Your Name?
DP x DC au where ghosts are basically the fae. Danny being half ghost gives him access to the fun bits like the fae magic, trickster abilities, and being able to eat/drink fae food with little to no side effects while he is less affected by the not so fun bits like being incapable of lying(he can but he feels really weird when he does) and being burned by iron(it'll give him a rash if in prolonged contact). Due to fae having extremely long life spans, he has outlived all his loved ones and moved into the infinite realms permanently after their deaths. This has caused him to lean a lot more into the fae traits as the years pass. He occasionally takes trips into different dimensions to cause mischief.
One such trip brings him to Gotham. He's in a park and due to his fae-ness the local fauna are extremely trusting and drawn to him so he has a small collection of birds, squirrels, and maybe even a stray cat or two following him around. This catches the attention of Damian who just so happened to be at that park. Damian walks over to this strange boy who has such an affinity with animals, and starts a conversation with him.
"How do you get them to follow you?" Damian asks as he slowly approaches, voice low to avoid scaring off any of the creatures. Danny glances over at Damian, a smile flitting across his lips, before turning to the gathered animals.
"Patience," he replies, lowering a hand for a young squirrel to climb on, lifting his hand, and cradling it near his chest, "and kindness". He turns back towards Damian and reaches for his hands, which Damian let's him take, and gently deposits the squirrel in his gentle hold. The squirrel looks up at Damian curiously, looks back to Danny who gives an encouraging nod, and then climbs up Damians arm and settling upon his shoulder. "It takes a truly gentle soul to gain an animals trust," Danny says, "Something that I have a feeling you possess. You are intriguing."
If it were anyone else, they may have clocked the way Danny spoke as strange, but Damian was too in awe of both Danny and the squirrel who was currently snuggling against his neck to notice. Even if he wasn't, however, he wouldn't have noticed as he himself was often told he spoke strangely, though he never thought so.
"This is incredible," Damian said, ever so gently bringing a hand up to stroke the squirrels fur. Danny smiled as he watched Damian interact with the squirrel, so kind and gentle, his curiosity and interest in the human growing by the second.
"May I have your name?"
Damian, who takes great pride in his name and would never consider hiding his identity, proudly proclaims, "Damian al Ghul-Wayne".
Danny's eyes sparkle with mischief and his smile grows into something a little too wide and suddenly all his features look just this side of odd. His ears a little too pointed and his teeth and nails a little too sharp and his eyes a little too bright, did they always look like that?
"Well Damian," and when he says his name something shifts in him, like he has no choice but to listen, and... what was his name again? This boy just said it, why in the world can't he remember what it is? "I think you'll be coming with me."
Damian can't stop himself from allowing Danny to take his hand and lead him further into the trees. What was supposed to be a small patch of trees in a park seem to thicken before his eyes, fog rolls in and licks at his heels and they emerge into a clearing that definitely wasn't there before. When he looks around, he can't see any of the park through the tree line. The air in front of them seems to ripple and waver until it divides itself and creates a gateway of sorts to a place Damian doesn't recognize as anywhere in Gotham.
"Come along Damian," Danny says and once again, he has no choice but to comply, allowing this stranger to take him away.
~~~~~~~~
So basically Danny is a fae and meets Damian and decides, hey I like this one, I'm gonna keep it and steals his name and takes him home. I picture it as Dead Serious but it doesn't have to be taken that way.
Other things I envision for this au include:
Danny showing Damian off to his friends in the realms(Kitty, Johnny, Ember, Skulker)
they congratulate him on his "first catch" and coo over Damian as if he was a new puppy and not a whole human person
Damian being very distraught over his inability to remember his name
Danny tells him that it doesn't matter and his name(and by extension Damian himself) belongs to him now
But if he really wants something to call himself he may go by Dove
Damian always keeps a communicator on him which he uses to contact his family and tell them what happened
They try to track his location but as he is in another realm they cannot
They reach out to Constantine because they need a magic user's help
Constantine hears that Damian got taken by the fae and nearly shits himself
He gives the batfam a run down on fae etiquette and then takes them on a field trip to the fae realm to try to convince Danny to give Damian back
Danny does not want to give Damian back
Anytime Danny gives Damian an order in which he says his name Damian has no choice but to comply
Danny doesn't intentionally abuse this but after centuries without normal human interaction he's lost touch with what is and isn't considered cruel
As if stealing someones' name and kidnapping them is in any way not cruel
So sometimes he ends up being a little mean
Forcing Damian to shut up if he starts being rude
Forcing him to sit or stand or go here or don't move
Once, in an attempt at defiance, Damian refuses to eat and Danny gets this cold expression and his features once again take on that just-this-side-of-odd look and he says "Damian, eat"
Danny goes out of his way to get food from Damians universe because he doesn't want him to have any side effects from eating the fae food
He wants to keep him and doesn't want to risk anything potentially harming him
Time across dimensions is kinda fucky
Idk if I'll continue this cuz I don't really know the DC universe well enough to write it. Everything I know I learned through fanfics. If anyone wants to try their hand at writing it you have my full permission just please tag me because I'd love to see what you do with it. It's up to author interpretation if Danny ever gives Damian back or not. Maybe he makes the batfam do some tasks to prove themselves to convince him to give him back or not. Maybe if you take the Dead Serious route then as they come to truly care for each other Damian is able to convince Danny that he wouldn't be happy living the rest of his life in the fae realm, unable to leave or see his family, and that is what eventually gets Danny to release him. But at that point they really care for each other(maybe already dating) so they keep in touch and Danny visits often and starts getting accustomed to socially interacting with humans again. He is very embarrassed about some of the things he did while Damian was under his possession after relearning human social norms.
#danny fenton#danny phantom#danny phantom au#danny phantom fandom#danny phantom fanfiction#danny phantom fic#dpxdc#dp x dc prompt#dp x dc#dc#damian al ghul#dead serious#robin#batman#batman fanfiction#batman fandom#bruce wayne#fae danny#May I Have Your Name AU#batfam#john constantine#dick grayson#nightwing#tim drake#red robin#jason todd#red hood
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Inviting other artists!
So I've just made a superhero AU for utmv. Right? Well, I really only wanted to design one guy, Lust. Sooo I'm opening the AU (WHICH LITERALLY HAS NO LORE YET SO NO WORRIES) for others to partake in!
Here's like, the basic lay out.
Choose one Sans AU to turn into superhero/villain. Please refrain from using a Sans someone else claimed.
Make them into a superhero/villain themed after something specific. (Example: A plant themed superhero, or even a cactus one!)
Keep powers balanced with weaknesses, please make them relate to their theme!
Give them a civilian identity! You don't have to draw this one, but make sure to mention their civil job and name!
Give them a Superhero/Villain name as well!
Wait, supervillain?
OH YES! You can choose the mortal alignment of your claimed Sans! Super hero, villain, neutral, vigilante? Just pick whatever you want!
Of course headcanons are welcome, it's Canon to YOUR design! Make them trans, gay, autistic, whatever! (Human designs are allowed too!)
Wait.. what do I (the artist reading this) Even get out of doing this?
Well I'll tell you! For one, its a fun artist challenge where you personalize and create a whole new hero/Villain to your preferences!
You also get to imagine their lore, and incorporate their personality into the story! They'd all be canon part of the AU. (Note: if someone claimed a sans first and you did it anyways, yours wouldn't be Canon unless issues occurred with the OG/they gave you permission.)
I dunno, I just wanna make an AU with a ton of people, ya know? I think it's be fun for us to work together on this.
CLAIMED LIST:
Lust: Hero. Complete. By @thelunarsystemwrites.
Reaper: Vigilante. Completed by @solusminds.
Outer: Vigilante. Complete by @dzasterdumpterfire
Ink: Retired Hero. Complete by @lix88888
Error: Supervillain. Complete by @its-paperd
Dust: Claimed by @billygoat26
Farmer: Claimed by @absurdumsid
Cross: Claimed by @weirdest-worlds
Geno: Claimed by @eldritchcats
Shattered: Claimed by @genderfluidyellowocto
Nightmare: Supervillain. Completed by @analexthatexists
Killer: Claimed by @a-menacetosociety
Dream (and core frisk): Claimed by @thenocturnenarrator
Blue: Superhero, complete by @createbellatheartist
Fell: Supervillain, complete @underrrtaleee-freakk
Quantum: Superhero. Completed by @nashdoesstuff (Also made an OC for the AU, Dreamshade! Superhero.)
Horror: Neutral Evil. Completed by @it-came-from-mount-ebott
Ccino: Claimed by @some-aroace-chaos
Fresh: Claimed by @nightmareishomophobic
Die sans: Claimed by @dustsansm1
Bill: Supervillain. Completed by @endless-emptyness (OC Nanno made by sane person!)
Epic: Claimed by @dtdrawz
Fatal error: Claimed by @spookyboris2
Swan: Claimed by @glitching-moon
Sci: Claimed by @joonebugg
Dance: Claimed by @dv-reblogs
Swad: Claimed by @shinanigans-art
Littletale: Claimed by @somehhuuuhh
Possession: Claimed by @b0nerific-individual
Alter: Claimed by @annabel184
Paperjam: Vigilante. Completed by @papple
Decadent society: Supervillain. Complete by @supper122
Green Sans: Claimed by @xxcross-is-a-helicopterxx
Roulette: Claimed by @ant1quarian
On the claimed list, if you claim a Sans (By commenting or reblogging saying "Dibs Blank!" Or "Can I do blank?" Etc! I'll add it on the List saying: "Sans: Claimed by User"
Once it's made, please tag me so I can see! Then I'll update it to "Sans: Moral alignment. By User." And link it on this post! [Please only claim one, we want enough to go around! However you can claim variations! So one person could make dream, another could make shattered!]
[Note I do not claim any ownership over your designs for the AU, nor will I use your design w/o permission.]
With all that said! Anyone interested? [And hey, if you're not interested? It's okay to just not join. Or ignore this!]
Asks! (Questions regarding the AU!)
Can we make our own lore woth other characters?
Secondary claims?
Only two grabs?
Can we have OCs?
Can we use our own AUs?
#Superhero AU#undertale au#alternate universe#undertale alternate timeline#Utmv#underlust#undertale#Aus#Art#If anyone wants to join in just lemme know!#Utmv superhero au
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Negotiations
Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Andy Barber x Female Reader Summary: You meet with Andy to discuss the terms of your potential contract. Word Count: Over 4.2k Warnings: Slow burn, reader is broke (is that a warning?), sugar daddy offer, tension, slight insecurities, negotiations, inner monologue, Andy Barber (he's a warning, okay?) Graphic talent and thanks: Banner - @sgt-seabass, Divider - @firefly-graphics , Header - yours truly A/N: Welcome back to my Terms and Conditions AU! Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby (thanks!), but any and all mistakes are my own. ❤️ Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
Work felt like the longest shift even though it was only a few hours. You saw the customers through a different set of eyes as you served them. You wondered how many of them struggled like you or what they would do if someone like Andy entered their lives. If you came to an agreement with him on everything, you weren't sure if you'd ever step foot in the diner again after you quit. Not because you were embarrassed.
It was merely time to look forward.
And look my best.
You turned to the side when you checked your reflection. Estelle had way too much fun picking out an outfit for you. After carefully searching and sneakily looking at the price tag so she didn’t splurge, you opted for a sleeveless, blazer style dress. Nothing over the top or too fancy. You still wanted to look like you while looking professional.
Though she insisted it was your birthday gift, along with the surprisingly comfortable black heels, you planned to pay her back. Whether from the money Andy gave you or once you got your paycheck months from now at your new job. If she refused, you’d tell her the only gift you needed was her support and she gave that to you. Like she knew you were thinking about it, she messaged you.
“Good luck! I know you look hot! Knock his socks and pants off! He better give you everything you deserve!”
You had to smile at her enthusiasm. “It’s his office. His pants are staying on.”
“You say that now, but he’s the boss. You’ll change your tune once he has his hands on you.”
Laughing as you tucked your phone away, you couldn’t completely disagree with her. Andy robbed you of your breath whenever you saw him and it surprised you that you could maintain logical thinking when he was close by. You had to maintain that rational headspace today. He was a man used to people telling him what he wanted to hear. As an ex-lawyer and businessman, he could sway things in his favor if you weren’t careful.
Considering what he was offering you, it didn’t once feel like he was taking advantage of your misfortunes.
You stopped yourself from messaging Andy that you were on your way. He was a busy man with more important stuff to deal with than a check-in from you. It would be one of the topics of discussion shortly anyhow. Would he want to know where you are at all times or would he be content with the occasional message?
How much control will he want over me? How much do I want to give him?
Thanking and paying the cab driver as you arrived at the building, you didn't feel as out of your element the way you did at the restaurant. The office setting was familiar. It was bittersweet going inside though for something that wasn't work or an interview. Maybe this was better.
You held your head high as if it was.
I can do this.
You handed your bag over for the security officer to check while he verified your identification. Satisfied once he double checked your name and ID, he handed you a guest badge and allowed you to go to the elevators. It comforted you that Andy and his employees were safe when they went into his building. You wondered how often you'd be here or if he'd keep you away from his office outside of functions.
You avoided looking at anyone as you got into the elevator, though you felt the eyes of a couple of men sweep over your body. It didn’t matter what they thought. Andy was the only one you wanted to look good for. As you passed by each floor, the more you worried about breaking into a sweat. You shifted back and forth until the door opened.
One step closer.
It took you a second to move your feet forward and turn down the hall. It seemed to stretch on for miles, the door at the end of it was large and daunting. It was like entering the lion’s den, but you weren't afraid. Even if you did pause again before you turned the handle and walked in.
An older woman, Irene according to the nameplate on her desk, sat outside of a set of double doors, giving you a kind smile as she looked up from her keyboard. You didn't let her appearance fool you. Anyone who worked for someone as powerful as Andy likely had thick skin and a "take no crap" attitude.
"How may I help you?"
"Hi. I'm here to see Andy Barber," you replied, giving her your name and inwardly wincing. Of course, she knew you were there to see him. Why else would you be there?
"Yes, Mr. Barber is expecting you," she smiled, pressing the intercom on her desk. "Mr. Barber, your 4pm is here."
"Send her in, please."
It isn't fair that he sounds sexy through a speaker box.
"May I get you anything to drink?" she asked.
"No, thank you," you smiled, following her as she opened the double doors.
This is it.
The office was just as you imagined, the walls lined with a mixture of art and accolades. A small table and chairs sat on one side with a couch on the other. It was elegant, but the man behind the desk drew your attention. Sunlight filtered in through the floor to ceiling windows behind Andy, casting a halo around him as he stood up. A symbol of power and authority in his black suit with the skyline behind him, you found it difficult to take your next breath.
He looks like he was born to be in charge.
"It's good to see you again," Andy smiled, walking around the desk and gesturing to the table. "Why don't we sit over here? Did Irene offer you a drink?"
"Of course, I did, Mr. Barber. And before you remind me, I know to hold your calls," she chastised him, which only made him chuckle before she smiled at you. "I'll be just outside if you need anything."
I knew it. Take no crap.
"Thank you," you said, giggling as you walked to the table. "I like her."
"I do, too. She keeps me on my toes," he said as he pulled out the chair for you. "How was your day?"
"Uneventful," you replied, setting your bag beside you. It was nice that he asked. "How are you?"
"My day was just fine," he said, taking a seat. He had a notepad waiting there, similar to yours.
"That's good."
He gave you a half smile and you debated whether or not to continue with small talk. "Nervous?"
“A little bit,” you said, refusing to lie to him. It wouldn’t start things off on the right foot if you did. “I didn’t have ‘Sugar Daddy Negotiations’ on my BINGO card this year.”
He chuckled, the sound beautiful in the large space. “If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t either," he joked. "And you don’t look nervous.”
“It actually does,” you smiled. “How do I look?”
“You look beautiful.”
“Oh,” you said, your cheeks growing warmer the longer he gazed at you. While you wanted that to be his reaction, it was somehow unexpected. “I wasn’t fishing for a compliment, by the way.”
“And I wasn’t taking the bait. I’m telling you what I see.”
“Thank you. This was a birthday gift from Estelle,” you said, smoothing out the dress even though you were sitting. Why you felt the need to tell him, you weren’t sure.
“It’s a beautiful dress, but I was talking about your smile,” he said, his lip tugging in a small smile of his own before he cleared his throat. “As much as I’d like to sit here and continue to shower you with praise, maybe we should save that for another time.”
Your throat went dry at the implication, but you didn't want to get ahead of yourself. “Of course."
"Today is about figuring out our terms and setting expectations. I plan to take notes as we go along, if you don't mind."
"That's fine because I plan to do the same," you explained as you took out your notepad. "I’ve made a list of things I believe we should discuss and agree on before moving forward."
“You’re prepared,” he said, a hint of pride in his voice. "And getting down to business like last time."
“I do what I can,” you said, glancing at the first item on your list. “First thing is the length of our contract. You mentioned Mr. Huffman’s merger could take a few months, but there’s no definitive timeframe. My proposal is six months or when the job becomes available, whichever comes sooner.”
He considered your words carefully. “I spoke with Scott again and a merger like this may take a minimum of six months due to the range of variables. I propose a year or when the job becomes available. It hopefully won’t take that long, but I’d feel more comfortable if we have more time as opposed to less.”
A year was a long time, but you understood his perspective. “Why don’t we meet in the middle? Nine months.”
“Nine months, but if the merger is still pending at that time, we can revisit the contract and extend it if needed,” he proposed.
“Agreed,” you said, jotting down your notes on your pad while he did the same. “My job. You said I would need to quit and I’d be unable to take another position while under contract. I have no objections to that, but I won’t flat-out quit the diner. I’ll put in my two week notice. If they tell me not to come back, that’s on them.”
“I think that’s the respectable thing to do,” he said, nodding to your pad. “I don’t know where living arrangements are on your list, but I’d like to discuss that next.”
You wanted to discuss your free time since you wouldn't have a job any longer, but you would circle back to that. “Okay. You said over lunch that you’re not comfortable with me staying in my current place.”
“I did and I stand by that. I understand that my building doesn’t guarantee complete safety over yours because anything could happen anywhere at any time, but knowing you’re close by would help put me at ease. I have a loft ready to go and you can treat it as your own place. If something isn’t to your liking, we can change it within reason.”
“Within reason?”
Andy smirked slightly. “I can’t exactly take a sledgehammer to the wall if you want to make the space bigger,” he said, taking out his phone and pulling up an image. “But it’s a nice place. Feel free to swipe through it.”
The photos were beautiful and the living room alone looked larger than your entire apartment. “Is spending time at your place an expectation?” you asked.
“I’d like it if you did for an occasional dinner, but I understand if you'd rather not. I'd also like to meet you once a month outside of contractual obligations to talk.”
Sounds like a date. Is it though?
“I agree to the loft, the occasional dinner, and meeting with you once a month," you agreed. It wasn't overwhelming or demanding. You'd still have a sense of independence. "But I’d like to keep my current apartment. If I take this job in the upcoming months, I can't expect you to cover the loft anymore and I doubt I could afford it even with a decent salary. I’ll need a place to go back to until I find something better.”
"I own it," he said. He wasn't bragging in your mind. He was stating a fact.
"I doubt I could afford your rent then. I keep my apartment."
“Done,” he said after a moment. You were glad he agreed. Your apartment was still yours. “Which is a good segway into expenses. As a reminder, I plan to cover the rent for your current apartment, along with any bills associated with it such as cable or internet. If you prefer to shut those off during the contract, we can. I’ll also cover your cell phone, insurance, credit card bills, student loans, any debt you pay on a monthly basis. Oh, and groceries.”
Tears filled your eyes as he opened his mouth to continue. The more you tried to compose yourself, the more your face scrunched up. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. You hadn't expected to get emotional, but actually hearing him say he’d cover your monthly bills and help you stay on top of everything was unreal. You'd sleep better at night knowing you had nothing to worry about.
I probably look ridiculous.
“Don’t be,” he said gently, handing you his handkerchief so you could dab your eyes.
“I’m just,” you stopped to take a breath. It was okay to be vulnerable. That was part of communicating. “I’ve carried this stress on my shoulders and knowing that you’re going to take some of that weight away is… I’m never going to be able to repay you for that or thank you enough.”
“I don’t expect a monetary repayment nor would I want that. I told you, honey. You're an honest and kind person. Your company is going to be more than enough.”
He sounds too good to be true.
“You say that now, but you'll grow tired of me,” you teased, holding out your hand to give him the handkerchief. “Thank you.”
He shook his head and refused to take it back. “Keep it. And considering I offered a year for this, I know I won't grow tired of your company,” he said, a bit of concern in his eyes as you sniffled. “Are you okay to continue? We can take a break.”
“I'm fine,” you promised, straightening up and feeling lighter, like the weight was already gone. “We were discussing expenses.”
“Yes,” he smiled, gesturing to your outfit. “I plan to take you shopping so you can have a few outfits, jewelry, shoes, make-up, and whatever else you need ready for the planned upcoming events, as well as some dressed down outfits so you’re comfortable when we travel and to spruce up your wardrobe if you’d like.”
Careful. You’re going to spoil me.
“I’m also going to deposit two thousand dollars into your account each month for your leisure,” he added, writing it on his pad as if that was the final say in the matter.
“Two thousand dollars?!” you nearly shouted. You weren’t trying to sound hysterical, but you failed. “I’m sorry, but who spends that much on clothes each month?!”
Andy looked like he was trying not to laugh at the incredulous look on your face. “You don’t have to spend it on clothes. It’s for you to use as you wish.”
“But you’re already buying me a whole new wardrobe AND covering all of my bills and expenses for nine months. I’m assuming you're covering travel expenses, too?”
“I will,” he confirmed.
“Then there’s no reason why I’d need that much money,” you said with a shake of your head. Estelle would probably tease you for not agreeing, but it was too much. “I can’t possibly need more than five hundred a month.”
“One thousand,” he said firmly as you narrowed your eyes. “Humor me, honey. Please?”
You tapped your pen against the pad as you thought it over. You really didn’t see a reason for that much, but you could put any leftover funds each month into savings. It would be good to pay Estelle back.
Plus, how could you argue when Andy gave you a sweet smile?
“Fine. One thousand each month,” you said, ignoring the look of satisfaction in his eyes. “Okay. We’ve discussed the length of the contract, my job, living arrangements, expenses, which includes traveling. How about traveling itself?”
“Is your passport current?” he asked.
“It is.”
“Good. Some of the traveling will require us to go out of the country and you’ll need it handy. We’ll need to coordinate our schedules so you can block off dates in your calendar. We’ll most likely share a suite for any non-local events, but I’m not going to make you share a bed with me. You have my word.”
You nodded as you wrote that down. It was a bit of a surprise that he didn’t expect you to sleep with him. “Thank you, Andy,” you said, pointing at him with your pen. “But I’m planning to tell Estelle about every function, big or small, so she knows where I am. I won’t budge on that.”
“You’re allowed to give her the details. You said you trust her and that she can be discreet.”
You could never picture Andy as a creep, but the confirmation that he wouldn't force you to sleep with him and that Estelle would know what's going on helped you relax. "If I'm not working or going to functions with you, what am I doing with the rest of my time?" you asked.
Does he expect me to be at his beck and call?
"I'm glad you asked. It's your time to do what you want. Relax, hang out with friends, pamper yourself. Minus the days you'll have blocked out in your calendar, the time is yours," he explained, lightly twirling his pen in his hand. The motion momentarily distracted you. "I only ask if you plan to leave the city to tell me, that way I know you're unavailable if anything last minute comes up."
You weren't sure what you were going to do with that extra time. While a nine month long vacation sounded nice, you didn't want it to be all leisure. You needed somewhat of a routine. Maybe you could take some self development courses to prepare for going back to the office.
"That's fair. I don't have any plans to leave the city, but I'll be sure to let you know if I do," you said, hoping you weren't missing anything as you looked over what you had written down. "What if I’m sick or there’s an emergency and I can't be with you?”
“Then you won’t go," he said as a matter of fact. "I’d never ask you to choose between this arrangement and your well-being or family. Depending on the situation, I could miss it to help you.”
That was unexpected. Andy shouldn't have to put you ahead of any of his obligations. The offer though, even if it never came to fruition, warmed your insides. "That's kind of you, Andy," you said softly before you cleared your throat. “The last topic I have written down is sex.”
“No,” he said, something unreadable in his eyes at the suggestion. “Sex is not on the table because I’m not going to pay you for that.”
“Oh,” you said, quickly scratching it off your list. It was admirable on his part, but also slightly disappointing. Clearly you misread some of the signals. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply-”
“You have nothing to apologize for,” he assured you, placing his hand over yours before you could pull it away. “If I sounded harsh, I’m sorry. I understand sex is an expectation for some arrangements, but it isn’t for me and I would never want you to feel pressured to be physical with me. I also have no judgments against anyone who pays for sex. My preference regarding intimacy is for it to happen organically.”
“I appreciate the explanation,” you said. This was a business transaction to him. That much was clear. But knowing his reasoning behind it did help. “As far as being affectionate at functions, what’s your take on that? Or going on dates?”
“I may have my arm around you or keep you close to my side, but nothing more if you’re uncomfortable with that. If you are, please tell me and I’ll stop immediately,” he answered before a moment of silence stretched on. "You're asking if we're going to go on dates?"
"You mentioned meeting once a month. Is that a date?"
He waited a few seconds before he answered. "It's a chance for us to meet up and talk. I don't want to demand a title for those moments. That isn't fair to you."
It wasn't a "yes" or "no" answer. Maybe after his divorce and not knowing if people genuinely wanted to connect with him, he wasn't interested in the dating scene. "Okay."
He leaned back in his chair with a hum. “You deviated from the sex discussion quickly.”
“You said it wasn’t on the table,” you reminded him. You weren't about to make a fool of yourself by pushing.
“I said I wasn’t going to pay you for sex. I never said sex wasn’t on the table at all,” he pointed out. You jumped to the conclusion that he didn't want it because it wouldn't be part of the contract. “Any discussion we have regarding that, I’d prefer not to be in a contract form.”
“So if it does happen, we’ll work through it together naturally?” you asked, not wanting to get your hopes up.
His gaze softened considerably. “Yes, we would. And I’d hope you’d trust me enough to know I’d treat you well and take care of you.”
"I do," you said.
"But sex and a relationship aren't expectations of our agreement or outside of it," he said, taking his hand away from yours. "I want to make that clear."
Andy driving the point home was what you needed, as saddening as it was. At the end of the day, it was a contract. He was paying you for your company. Surely he didn't want anything else. "Thank you for reiterating that. Is there anything else you wanted to discuss that I missed?"
His expression remained neutral, but you imagined it disappointed him that you shifted the conversation back to business. Wishful thinking on your part. "Yeah. The only other thing I wanted to discuss is the possibility of you having a driver."
"A driver?" you asked. Wasn't that a bit much? "I don't mind taking cabs or Ubers."
"I understand that, but I'd prefer if you had a driver. If you have to meet me for an event and I can't escort you myself, they will know exactly where to go. You also won't have to pay for someone to drive you around if you want to go anywhere."
"But you're paying them," you said.
"My job is to cover your expenses," he shrugged, leaning his head back and reaching up to loosen his tie. You stared for far too long. "Told you I want to take care of you, honey."
You shifted in your seat, hoping he didn't take any notice. "I want to pick the driver," you said, a little more breathy than before.
That poor driver is likely going to be bored for the next three quarters of a year being my chauffeur.
"From a selection of my choosing. They're all trustworthy."
"I'm giving Estelle the details of that, too," you said.
"I expect nothing less," he smiled, catching your eye. "Is there anything else you'd like to discuss?"
"Not that I can think of," you said.
He tapped the notepad with his pen. "I'm going to have a contract drawn up, but I won't ask you to sign it for a week. This will give you time to back out if you need to and it will also give you a few days to contact me should you think of anything else."
"One week," you whispered. Could you wait that long? What if you did think of something else?
"Until then," he said, standing to walk back to his desk. He came back with a letter sized envelope. "So you know I'm serious."
Your eyebrows shot up when you opened the envelope. It was a cashier's check for two thousand dollars made out to you. He had it ready for you. "Andy, this-"
"I know we agreed on one thousand, but I was set on two thousand before we talked it over. Even if you decide not to move forward with this, I want you to take it."
Afraid you might cry again, you set the check down and stood up to hug him. He stiffened in your hold and you wondered if you overstepped before he exhaled and wrapped his arms around your back. You thanked him already with your words, so you wanted to do it again with a hug. The way he held you in return, it felt like was saying "you're welcome".
And that you weren't alone.
"I wish we could have that dinner tonight," he whispered, his mouth close to your ear. You shivered before you reluctantly pulled away. "Unfortunately, I have to get drinks with a few executives."
"That sounds terrible," you teased, drawing a chuckle out of him. "I should get going then."
"It is terrible," he agreed, making sure you had the check and your other things as he led you to the door. "I'll see you back here in a week at the same time."
"And I'll hopefully speak to you before then," you said, not wanting to sound clingy.
But the smile he gave you was a sign of hope. "I'd like that."
This is going to be the longest week ever.
I don't need to wait a week. I'm signing on the dotted line! Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Andy Barber Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
#navybrat writes#andy barber x reader#andy barber x female reader#andy barber x female!reader#andy barber x you#andy barber x y/n#andy barber#sugar daddy!andy barber x reader#sugar daddy!andy barber#terms and conditions au#andy barber imagine#andy barber fanfiction#andy barber au#sugar daddy au#chris evans x reader#chris evans x female reader#chris evans x female!reader#chris evans x you#chris evans
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There are already so many AU's that I figure no one will notice another one, so I might as well suggest the one is been thinking about. What if Arthur actually was reborn as Daemon's son? He can be a bastard, or an older son of Rhae/Elyse, whichever one you like the most. If he is a bastard, would Daemon even know about him? I'm assuming his mother would have been a prostitute Daemon was fond of, but would she have told him that they had a child together? Would she have told Arthur who his father is? If he's another son of Rhae/Elyse, would he have tried to get into contact with Daemon sooner? If he gets Summerhalled at the same time as Jon and Rhaegar, would it be harder for their relationship to develope, since Arthur and Rhaegar already know each other and Jon would be something of an outsider? There are honestly so many places this AU could go.
It depends on if the setup is meant to be fairly similar (Arthur shows up as a mystery knight to compete for the Princesguard).
If so, aka he's 16ish, what probably makes the most sense is a either a prostitute or a lord's daughter who got swept up in the romance of sleeping with a prince. Perhaps a woman from the Dornish marshes (like Cole) briefly just before he was forced to marry Rhea. That would work best with the timing (Daemon would have been 17 and he's 34 right now).
Since Daemon was in Runestone when the baby was born and now married, she likely knew the king would not look kindly on her bringing scandal on the marriage, so wouldn't have contacted Daemon. There's also the potential issue of not knowing for certain whose child it was (depending on if she was a prostitute or not)--perhaps his eyes were more blue/dark at birth and only settled into purple when he was a year or two old.
It somewhat amuses me to think that Arthur is actually mistaken for a bastard of House Dayne when a member stumbles across him and his mother a few years later. Say, perhaps, by the Lord of Starfall's younger brother who died of summer sickness. In that scenario, he is likely raised in Dornish fashion as a noble son of House Dayne via a paramour and could conceivably still be awarded Dawn and become the Sword of Morning.
I think this path works better than Elys and/or Rhea keeping another child secret from Daemon, which often feels a little too outlandish to me.
Then there are the fun questions of what to do, once everyone takes a look at the mystery "Dornish" knight and is like...anyone else notice that he looks a LOT like Daemon? With Jon's dark hair? Arthur must know his mother's name, which Daemon may or may not recognize. If he does, then shit, that's his son. *grabby hands* No, you are NOT joining the Princesguard, you are a PRINCE once Viserys legitimizes you.
(Meanwhile, Arthur has his first argument with Daemon because of COURSE he's joining the Princesguard, who better than a prince to guard other princes like his precious younger brothers? While Daemon is adamant that he should be allowed to marry and have children and he can still be a knight, and how is he supposed to claim a dragon if he's stuck on guard duty all the time. Which...is something that Arthur never considered because DRAGONS. HIM. WHAT.)
In fairness, Arthur has only known Rhaegar for a few months (I have him joining the Kingsguard roughly six months before Rhaegar gets summerhalled), so about the same length of time Jon and Rhaegar have known one another! So I don't think it hampers him bonding with Jon too much, especially given how starry-eyed Jon will be about the Sword of Morning being their BROTHER, how cool. (Rhaegar shaking his head because Jon saved the world and doesn't realize that HE'S the coolest.)
I get the sense that Arthur and Daemon would clash heads a lot, too. Arthur doesn't really have any childhood trauma in his original life, so it's not like he's seeking a father figure, and his pre-summerhall version here had a happy childhood in Starfall. Daemon is, as far as he's concerned, the sperm donor.
What ultimately wins him over some with regard to Daemon is probably how sweet he is with the twins, and how badly they want him to be their brother. But Arthur probably always consider Daemon more of an ally than his father-father, despite Daemon's best efforts.
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OMG I love your party idea it's so cool!! how about "slow down baby" by Christina Aguilar for Eren Yeager 💓💓 one of my favs
Slow Down Baby
Slow down baby and don't act crazy, don't you know you can look all you want but you just can't touch
Pairing: Eren Jaeger x f!reader
Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Word Count: ~2.4k
cw: modern-day au, mutual masturbation, voyeurism, implications of cheating, cheating, sex toy use (vibrator), dirty talk, pet names (good girl, princess)
Summary: Your boyfriend Jean is working late again, and you can’t help but be suspicious that there’s something nefarious happening behind your back. Pent up from not seeing him this whole week, you take this alone time to treat yourself to some much-needed self-care.
Eren Jaeger knows that his friend is cheating on you, and he hates it. You don’t deserve it, not one bit. When Jean asks him to do a favor to try to cover up his infidelity, Eren seriously considers telling you the truth, ultimately deciding against it because of “bro code”. But what happens when he walks in on you taking all your sexual frustrations out on a little toy? Can he really keep his mouth shut?
Author’s Note: Thank you for this request @shepnicolo! Love me some Xtina, great song for the y2k karaoke party! This was a fun one for me, so I hope you like it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated, thank you for reading everyone! MDNI banner designed by @/cafekitsune. Header image from Pinterest.
“Hey babe. Sorry, but I’m going to be at work late again tonight.” It’s already past nine in the evening when Jean calls you, informing you of this last-minute change of plans.
“Again?” He’s had overtime every day since last week. He’s also been leaving early in the mornings so by the time you wake up, he’s gone. It feels like you’ve barely seen him at all. “How about dinner?”
“Yeah, yeah. I already ate.” There’s shuffling in the background. And maybe it’s just your paranoia, but you swear you hear a woman giggling quietly beside him.
You swallow hard, asking, “Is someone with you?”
“Huh?” His tone shifts, as if you’re asking the most ridiculous question. “What do you mean?”
Immediately regretting it, you rephrase, not wanting to sound accusatory. “I was just wondering if anyone else is working overtime with you. That’s all. Didn’t want you to be lonely there.” The last statement is a lie; you sincerely hope he’s alone and not doing what you’re suspicious of.
He clears his throat nervously. “Oh. Well, yeah, there are a few people here with me, so you have nothing to worry about.”
Too late for that, you think, listening carefully for any more clues. When you can’t hear anything else, you sigh into the phone. “Okay, sweetie. I’ll see you later then.” You wait for him to respond, but he doesn’t. Quickly, you add, “I love you – ”
He hangs up before you can get it out completely.
Jean had been pulling away from you for a while now. It didn’t just start with the overtime. It began over a month ago, when you noticed how glued to the phone he was while the two of you watched TV together. When you asked who he was texting, he answered, “It’s my new coworker. She’s asking some questions about work.” At the time, it didn’t raise any alarms in your head, so you dropped it. Every day, he was immersed to the screen, sometimes excusing himself to take a call outside on your balcony. You resisted every urge, every temptation to eavesdrop on his conversations, look through his text messages, interrogate him further.
You continue to give him the benefit of the doubt. There’s no way Jean would ever cheat on you. While you haven’t been together for that long, you like to think that you know him well enough to be sure he’s a faithful boyfriend. You don’t even have proof of his infidelity. It would be unfair to accuse him of such atrocities over some silly speculation, right?
Since he’s been in the office late this entire week, the two of you haven’t had sex in what seems like forever. Pent up and frustrated, you take this time to care for yourself, since Jean’s not around to do it. It starts with a serving of your favorite dessert, then a warm bath, soothing the tense muscles in your body. You surround yourself in a comfy robe, brushing your teeth with the full intention of falling asleep as soon as you do the one thing you need to make yourself feel better tonight.
With all the lights off, except for the dim glow of the lampshade on the nightstand, you snuggle into your bed, untying the robe so it’s splayed beneath you. Inside the drawer, you retrieve your favorite vibrator and a small bottle of lube, pouring a tiny bead on the tip. Spreading your legs wide, you smear it on yourself. Using your free hand, you navigate to your favorite dirty audio, playing it out loud.
~~~
Eren hates this. Absolutely hates it.
He’s driving towards your apartment with a set of keys in his pocket and a bouquet of roses sitting in the passenger seat. All because your friend is a piece of shit.
Eren’s known for a while now that Jean is cheating on you. It started with a not-so-subtle comment in the group chat. My new coworker is fucking hot. That alone disgusted him. Connie, of course, laughed it off. Armin didn’t say anything, probably unsure how to respond at such a statement. It only went downhill from there.
She’s got the best body omg.
I’m in trouble now.
This is bad guys lol.
Don’t tell the girls okay?
Jean has always rubbed Eren the wrong way, ever since they were kids. But at least he respected him. Now, not so much. Not at all, actually. You don’t deserve this, not one bit. No one does, but especially you. And maybe the reason he can’t completely berate Jean is because Eren’s harboring a secret of his own: He’s head-over-heels for you.
Of course, he’s never acted on it. Bro code, right? Thou shall not hook up with another bro’s girl, or whatever the unofficial rule is. But what if said bro is acting like a total asshole? And what if this bro would treat you the way you deserve and more? Then what?
It’s because of this stupid code that he finds himself in the most ridiculous, aggravating situation. Earlier in the night, Jean texted the group chat. SOS SOS SOS. Armin and Connie were both busy, so didn’t respond, leaving Eren to answer the cry for help.
Jean explains it quickly through the phone, voice all panicky and guilty. “Dude, I need you to do me the hugest favor right now. I would you owe big time if you could help me out.” Basically, he needs Eren to buy a big bouquet of roses and deliver them to your apartment, where you can see them first thing in the morning.
“Why?” he asks, irritated by this request.
“I think she’s suspicious. So I need to do something to throw her off the scent,” he explains. Eren can already see the cocky, shit-eating grin on his face. Why is he friends with this douchebag? And why did he agree to do this? He’s complicit in this mess now, not only for keeping his friend’s infidelity a secret, but for helping him continue it. He wants so badly to tell you the truth so you can escape this relationship. At the same time, he’s supposed to have his friend’s back no matter what, even if he is being a massive prick.
So, he decides to help his buddy out, no matter how much it’s killing him. He meets Jean at an unknown address, most likely his side chick’s place. “Dude, seriously. I owe you one,” he says, patting him on the shoulder.
Eren nods silently, not wanting to speak in case he lets his true feelings slip. Jean hands him the spare keys to your apartment. “Just sneak in and set the flowers on the kitchen counter. She won’t suspect a thing.” It takes all of Eren’s willpower not to punch him in the face, so he quickly turns around to get into his car and drive off.
It’s almost midnight by the time he arrives to your apartment. Surely, you’re asleep by now, still completely unaware that your bastard boyfriend is cheating on you. Still, he shouldn’t meddle in your relationship, even though he wants what’s best for you, which is not Jean.
He unlocks the door quietly, tip-toeing into the kitchen to set the flowers down, as instructed. He notices your bedroom door is ajar, a faint streak of light coming from the inside, and the undeniable sounds of a man growling expletives like, Come for me, slut. Yeah, give it all to me.
His eyes widen, surprised that you’re still awake, even more so that you’re listening to something like this. Curiosity gets the best of him; he stealthily makes his way beside your door, peering through the tiny opening to get a glimpse of you.
You’re laid out on the bed, bare and exposed, gripping a vibrator to your pussy. The sight alone is enough to put him into a frenzy. Hearing your soft whimpers from your mouth along with the electric buzz from the toy fluttering on your clit sends him into a trance that he can’t snap out of. Before he can think logically, he’s pushing against the door, making his presence known.
~~~
“Eren!” You sit up in bed, flinging the toy off to the side, covering yourself with your robe. “What are you doing here?”
He stands before you, a crazed look in his eyes, an obvious bulge protruding from his pants. He stutters, “I’m sorry.”
“What are you doing here?” you repeat, glaring at him.
His mouth is agape, unable to get the words out. You’re losing patience, watching him struggle to explain why he’s here, inside your home, watching you masturbate. You grab your phone, making sure to exit out of whatever filthy audio that’s still playing, fingers ready to dial your boyfriend’s number when he blurts out, “Jean is cheating on you.”
You freeze on the spot, heart sinking from having your worst fear confirmed.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, staring down at his feet. “I’m so sorry.”
There are no tears in your eyes, surprisingly. Instead, your throat is heavy with emotion as you repeat for a third time, “So, what are you doing here?”
Still avoiding your gaze, he answers, “Jean thought you were catching on to him, so he asked me to bring you flowers to throw you off.”
You can’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “Unbelievable.” Crossing your arms over your chest, you ask, “How long have you known about it?”
“A few weeks.” He looks up at you, saying your name this time. “I’m sorry you had to find out like this.”
After a deep breath, you sigh, relaxing against the headboard. “I’m sorry you’re involved in it.” You smile at him. “And I’m sorry you had to see me…you know.” Embarrassment catches up to you, heat rushing into your cheeks, aware that you’ve just been caught touching yourself with your vibrator, which is still in plain view beside you.
He steps forward, inching closer towards the end of the bed. “Don’t apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong. Jean is a fucking asshole. You don’t deserve this.”
“What do I deserve, Eren?” You peer at him, tears welling in your eyes now, desperate for any ounce of comfort he can give to you in this moment.
He sits near you on the edge of the bed, keeping his distance. “You deserve to be loved by someone who’s always going to treat you right. Someone who’s going to love you from head to toe.”
“Someone like you?”
A gentle smile forms on his face. “Yeah. Someone like me.”
No matter how badly you want to close the distance between you, want to feel the love he says he can give to you, guilt holds you back. Sensing your hesitation, he scooches nearer. “Let me help you. Tell me what you want.”
Eren has always been sweet to you. Too sweet, in fact. You’ve always gotten the sense that he cares more for you than he lets on. And maybe it’s because you’re hurt right now, fragile, heartbroken, even a little scornful towards Jean. Whatever it is, it makes you realize you’ve been too busy with the wrong man to notice the right one has been here all along. However, two wrongs don’t make a right. Even with the confirmation of Jean’s adulterous behavior, you’re still his girlfriend until you officially end it, which will be soon.
In the meantime, you manage to come up with something you can do to take advantage of this moment.
You let go of your robe, letting it fall to your sides, displaying your nude body to him, arousal wet between your legs from earlier. He watches you carefully, cock straining against his sweatpants, breathing heavily.
“I’m not a cheater like Jean,” you mutter, spreading yourself wider, showing off your glistening cunt.
“I know you’re not,” he whispers, scooting forward, hand drifting to his lap.
Reaching for your vibrator, maintaining your gaze on him, you say, “I’m a good girl.”
He swallows hard, palming his erection through the fabric. “Fuck. You’re a good girl. Such a good girl.”
“You can look, but you can’t touch. Understand?” Your finger hovers over the button, tip pressed to your throbbing clit.
He nods erratically, licking his lips. “Yes.”
“Good,” you smirk, turning the toy on, ready to give him a show. “Tell me all the things you want to do to me.”
He shoves his boxers down, cock sprung stiff against his abdomen, the slit shiny with precum, veins bulging on his shaft. It’s the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen, better than what’s-his-face by a longshot, though you might be biased now, given the circumstances. Eren wraps his fist around it, jerking himself off while he watches you tease the tip on your swollen bud. “I want to fuck you into this mattress,” he moans. “Pound this pussy until we break the bed.”
“Yeah?” you purr, pressing the fluttering tip deeper into your clit. “What else?”
“Want to bounce you on this cock, watch you cream all over me,” he huffs, stroking himself faster. “God, this is hot. So fucking hot.”
Pleasure ripples through your body, toes curled from the sensation, so close to your climax with his soothing voice spitting his nasty fantasies at you. “I wish you could fuck me right now,” you confess, limbs quivering from ecstasy, pussy fluttering around nothing, aching to be filled.
“Me too, princess. Me too. But you’re a good girl. And good girls don’t cheat.” He readjusts himself onto the bed, kneeling in front of you, stroking his hard dick. “I can give you this cum, though. That’s not cheating, right?”
You blindly agree with him, approaching your climax. “Yeah, give it to me. Give it to me, Eren.”
He swears loudly, shooting his load onto you, spilling over your clit, dripping down your pussy. “Fuck,” he groans, marveling at how pretty you look covered in his seed.
You smile at him, relaxing against your pillows, dipping the tip of your vibrator in his mess. His mouth hangs open, eyes half lidded, watching as you stuff it inside your cunt.
“Holy fuck,” he whispers, stroking his cock again, eyes fixated on your pussy.
Do technicalities even matter anymore? All you know is that you want to be loved from head to toe by Eren Jaeger. You set aside the toy, sitting up to close the gap between you, pressing your lips to his. He hesitates before deepening the kiss, tongue slipping inside your mouth, sloppy and eager for more.
When you break apart to catch your breaths, he leans his forehead against yours, whispering, “Are you going to be a bad girl now and take this cock?”
Grinning, you nod, pulling him in for another kiss.
#eren jaeger#eren jaeger smut#eren jaeger x reader#eren jaeger x you#eren jaeger x y/n#eren smut#eren x reader#eren x you#eren x y/n#eren yeager#eren yeager smut#Eren Yeager x reader#Eren Yeager x you#aot smut#attack on titan smut#y2k karaoke party#milestone event
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Coffee and skates
Ice skating AU, part one!!
July 1st - words: 518
Figure skating was most definitely the highlight of Regulus' day, he can't imagine who he would be without it. He went to a prestigious art university in London, and survived mostly from the money that he was able to take from his parents before he moved in with his best friends for his university accommodation - but figure skating was the only thing that really felt like it belonged to him.
He's been doing it since he could walk, start his day with an early morning brain that perfectly cleared his mind of any negative thought, for a few hours, it was just him and the smooth, gliding, sharply cold ice underneath his feet. He's ever so grateful that his university offers a figure skating extra curricular.
One of the things he loved most about his skating, was his coach. Euphemia Potter. She was the kindest woman Regulus had ever met, so rough and brave, yet soft and caring. She's the closest to a mother that he's ever had, it is a low bar, considering the state of his last one.
She understood when Regulus jumped away at any touch, or when he was startled about how motherly she was with him, it wasn't something he was used to.
He can be quite quiet with anyone he doesn't know very well, for the first year of knowing her - Regulus hardly spoke. But now Regulus knows that she has a husband, Monty, or Flea sometimes, he's not entirely sure what that mans actual name was.
She also has a son, only a year or so older than Regulus, James Potter, described by Effie as 'the joy that keeps this world alive.' He seemed alright, Regulus didn't know much about the man, nor had he met him. All he did know was that James and Regulus' brother, Sirius, were actually quite close friends from uni - though he doesn't see his brother too much any more, he's been rather busy.
"One, two, one, two..." He heard Effie shout along in tune with the song as his skates sliced through the ice in graceful patterns. "Amazing!" She praised as he halted into his finishing position, she was helping Regulus prepare for his competition which takes place in a few months, for once he finally feels good enough. "Just perfect." As Regulus skated over to the rinks exit and smiled at her.
"I'm glad." He pushed away the smile he was hiding at her words.
"You're allowed to smile Regulus." She sighed, still a fond smile on her face. "I've got to shoot, I'm meeting James for coffee."
He nodded, sitting down next to her and unlacing his skates with quick, painted black fingers. "Have fun, I'll see you tomorrow?"
"Yes yes, of course." She offered. She wasn't young, Regulus had never asked her age, but she had to be in her sixties, but he was the best coach he'd had in all his years of skating. "You'll have to meet him soon, you two would get along."
"Would we?" He questioned as the older woman hummed in response, an unreadable yet smug smile present on her face. "We'll see."
Next part
-
a/n: I want to clarify that Sirius lives with James in uni accommodation, and he never ran away to the Potters, he went to Andromeda who helped him join uni, then that's when he and James met. They're in their third year, Reg in his second. :)
#effie and reg would have such a mother son relationship#“He's alright” Regulus honey just you wait#oh also! this is gonna alternate povs#next chap will be from james' perspective#figure skater regulus agenda#marauders#jegulus#james potter#regulus black#james x regulus#sunseeker#jegulus microfic#jegulus fic#regulus x james#starchaser#marauders fanfiction#marauders fic#the marauders era#marauders era#the marauders#effie potter#marlsswrites skating au
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killjoy
childe x gn!reader | wc: ~1.6k
You catch your boyfriend setting up the cake.
tags/warnings: bday fun, modern & college au, based off of the American College Experience™ sorry, tooth-rotting fluff, teucer is a national treasure, comedy, possibly ooc, reader has hair
notes: for @staarri's 100 followers & bday event <3 trying to write childe was a nightmare but the wheel of doom has spoken. chosen prompt "cruel summer" :)
It has been one hell of a day.
Pop quizzes in two of your classes (that you are now tanking), getting heckled by that same group of protesters, slamming head-first into a glass panel like a pigeon, and then getting splashed by a puddle via a speeding car.
To give credit where credit is due, you’ve suffered through every incident with class and poise. Despite how you drip with murky street water, the saving grace that is the promise of your warm bed keeps you from inventing new profanities and falling to your knees in the student parking lot.
It’s almost over with, it’s almost over with—
The splintered door of your dorm unit has never looked more welcoming. When your keycard is approved with a click, you heave the barrier between you and uninterrupted sleep wide open. However, what you don’t expect is the little spectacle unfolding in your kitchenette.
Who you belatedly realize is your lovely boyfriend is sticking candles into something - it being quickly shielded from your view as he reacts to your arrival.
“You just had to be early,” he grins, revealing those pearly whites, “Maybe I’ll start calling you ‘Killjoy’.”
“Ajax?” He’s here? Today? But he said— He must notice your sorry state, but he’s wise enough not to mention it. “You really think I’d miss celebrating your birthday in person? Seriously, what kind of partner would I be, just sending you a text? Babe, you gotta start setting some higher standards.”
“Rotten liar,” you mumble, growing smile threatening to split your face in two.
A small flash of copper peeks around the bedroom-adjoining hallway, hyper. Teucer rushes up in front of his brother, the latter ruffling his hair. “Hey, you’re not supposed to be here yet!”
You snort, wondering if anyone else is planning to jump out of the shadows. “My sincerest apologies. I could always leave—”
“No need,” Ajax dismisses the notion with a cavalier wave. “I think we’re all ready, huh Teuce?”
He huffs in agreement, beaming up at you like you hung the moon. “One second!”
Teucer scampers off faster than you can blink, making you bellow a laugh. His energy knows no bounds, necessitating many hours of entertaining his whims. You wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Happy birthday,” Ajax says softly; wistfully.
You stalk over to him, embracing your boyfriend like he might disappear into thin air without a moment’s notice. “If you broke in, I will be calling campus security.” “You’d never turn me in! Also, we just so happen to still be on the guest card from last week.” You part from his warmth so you can kiss him. He tastes of sugar, the bastard.
“Buttercream?” you place, peering over his shoulder. The sight of a round cake on the counter confirms your suspicions, and your heart swells. He would’ve had to bake and decorate it somewhere else, given that ovens are a luxury you do not possess in college hell. You picture him in his too-nice apartment, piping frosting in the familiar loops of your name. “Yes!” Teucer rushes back in (you note that he’s hiding his hands behind his back), while Ajax pokes your nose. “Big brother spent soooo long on it!”
You snicker deviously. “Really?”
“No reason to lie,” your boyfriend pouts, “Though I’m a bit hurt that you’re both trying to embarrass me, after I went to all this trouble..”
Teucer sticks his tongue out in disgust whenever you console Ajax with another kiss, likely wanting you both to hurry up your gross couple stuff so he can show you his gift. It’s presented to you ceremoniously, and you honor the splendor by pretending not to know that it’s definitely one of his toys.
Your acting is award-winning, perfectly ignoring the obvious ridges and appendages of a Transformer. After tearing open the paper, you’re told that his name is Mr. Cyclops and you have to take good care of him - your sworn oath.
(Of course, Mr. Cyclops will mysteriously end up back in Teucer’s bedroom if you can count on your partner in crime to help you out. You and Ajax share a Look that hints at conspiracy.)
Speaking of your boyfriend, you don’t think he is governed by even one modicum of shame. During the Happy Birthday song, he performs with his whole chest, much to your chagrin. You think that Ajax lives the most for other people; even if it shines brightest whenever he teases and flusters. His camaraderie is most genuine when he’s this comfortable - when he knows that the present moment is all he needs to focus on.
When did he start letting his guard down? You find yourself unable to recall among past memories of trudging to the local diner at ungodly hours, cramming for finals at the library, and responsibly talking him down from any antics that would surely get him in trouble.
(Maybe it was when you first held an ice pack over his eye, swollen shut from a punch he shouldn’t have taken just for the thrill of it. Your admonishment must have been jarring, because without any teasing remarks whatsoever, he promised that he’d dial it down. You remember lacing your fingers with his - and promptly threatening to “embalm him with jet fuel” if he ever got hurt again.)
Now your relationship has progressed to the point where spending your first birthday together feels natural. It feels so natural that shitty paper plates stacked high with slices of cake is enough to make you forget that you look like that one damp owl picture. Ajax, as per his boyfriend duties, has to remind you, of course.
“Bad day, huh?”
You rest your chin on your fist, elbow supported by the armrest of your (comically small) couch. In retrospect, the fleeting illusion of a living room probably wasn’t worth it. Squished into a corner by a dozing Teucer and an awake Ajax, you yawn. “The worst, actually.”
“Well, we can’t be having that,” he tips your chin up to meet azure hues, “Maybe my gift will make you feel better.”
You blink. “Gift? You don’t have to, you know. The little guy’s was plenty enough for me.”
Ajax spares a fond glance at his little brother, whose head is resting in his lap, legs thrown over the opposite armrest. “Nonsense! If you’re worried about me having bought out a whole store—”
“Don’t tell me you—”
“—Then you have nothing to fret over, Killjoy,” he laughs. “It’s pretty small.”
You don’t suppress the smile that breaks out on your face. “Okay, I’ll bite.”
“Hopefully not too hard.” He’s so annoying. You want to kiss him stupid.
From what you assume is from his back pocket, he removes a black silk pouch before dropping it into your awaiting hand. He was right about it being small, that’s for sure. Toying with the material of it for a moment, you pull open the bag delicately. Ajax tenses. “So.. whaddya think?”
Inside is a brass key that fits into your palm nicely. Of course you’ll love anything he gives you, but you’re unsure of what this could mean. Is it symbolic? Literal? You thumb over the grooves, unsure of what they could possibly unlock. Your head swims with a fuzzy feeling that you don’t entirely hate.
“What’s it to?”
“Our place.”
It’s perfect. You turn the object this way and that way, swallowing. “Giving me my own copy? You realize that you’re gonna be stuck with me crashing at yours way more often, right?”
Your boyfriend wraps a sturdy arm around your shoulder. “It’s not there for you to crash, it’s there for you to stay. I want you to move in with me.”
The following awed silence from you is clearly taken as something else, because Ajax backpedals in that flippant way that belies the panic he’s actually feeling. You need to tell him that it’s okay; that it’s more than okay.
“Of course you can say no, but the rest of your birthday plans kinda hinge on the possibility that you’ll make me the happiest man in the world and say yes,” he amends.
You pay no heed to his theatrics, because all you really need is him. Gross. “Duh, idiot. As much as it kills me to say this, I’d want nothing more.” Ajax glows. “Because you’re head over heels in love with me?”
“No, because I won’t have to drag my ass to the laundromat anymore.”
The offended sound he lets out is muffled with your mouth against his once more, and the tears that roll down your cheeks are obviously not because you’re ecstatic to be so involved in his life. What a preposterous idea.
His hands cradle your face, a little awkward because of the position, but he’s so warm.
“Killjoy, I have something to confess,” he breathes, pulling back enough so you can see the faint constellation of freckles dotting his features. “You need to start packing immediately, or else the flowers will wilt before you’re able to see them.”
You sigh, happy-sniffling. “Flowers? Is a bouquet perhaps part of these ‘birthday plans’?”
Ajax dries one of his hands stained with your tears off onto his shirt before raking it through Teucer’s curls affectionately. He stirs but does not wake. “Try thirty!”
“Ajax..” The horror in your tone barely disguises the admiration.
“I love you too, Killjoy.”
That night, when you’re both alone in his apartment, tangled in each other’s arms, your overnight bag on the floor - you tell him the same. The few tears he sheds into your hair are also definitely not because you’re finally comfortable enough to say it back. Ridiculous.
taglist: @hanyi-writes, @karagatan02, @bfajax, @aphrodict, @nomazee
#✧ my writing#—stellaronhvnters.#childe x reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin childe x reader#genshin x reader#tartaglia x reader#childe tartaglia ajax#childe genshin impact#genshin impact fluff#ajax x reader#genshin impact#zira's lover : event
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cat boy
pairing: yang jungwon x fem!reader
wc: 1882
genres: some fluff, mostly crack, enemies to lovers, neighbours au
warnings: profanity
summary: yang jungwon is pissed his cat likes you more than him. or, in which jungwon’s cat plays cupid and sets you up.
note: this is extremely unserious!!!! i only wrote it for funsies but i enjoyed the process a lot :) i hope the fic manages to bring a smile on your face hehe
masterlist
There was an angry-looking Yang Jungwon standing at your door.
You didn’t know why he was so pissed. You just knew you didn’t care.
“Your incessant knocking woke me up,” you replied dryly and leaned against the door frame, arms crossing over your chest. “You better have a good reason for ruining my sleep.”
“It’s five in the evening.”
“What’s your point?”
Jungwon’s jaw clenched, and the corner of your lip curled up a smirk. Provoking him was always so satisfying. Always so easy and entertaining.
It was crazy how he was the sweetest person with everyone else but the moment you opened your mouth, he glared at you and looked like he was plotting your death. The discrimination and harsh treatment you’d received from the boy upon moving into your apartment had hurt at first, but you’d soon learnt to take it with a grain of salt.
You’d learnt that it was way more fun to push his buttons and see just how far you needed to take things for him to reach his breaking point.
“Just shut the fuck up and listen to me,” Jungwon snapped, pointing an accusing finger at you. “I need you to stop playing with my cat. Do not touch her. Do not call her name. Do not do the weird fucking meowing thing you do where she meows back at you and you have those god awful meowing conversations. Do not—”
“Oh, yeah,” you interrupted and pretended to deeply think about something. “I think it was just yesterday that Cleo told me you were popping a vein over her liking me more than you. I must say, Yang, you have reached a level of pathetic I didn’t even know existed. Yelling at your neighbour because you don’t get validation from your cat? Tsk.”
Embarrassment and anger coloured the entirety of Jungwon’s face a deep red. “You don’t get it!” he exclaimed. “Cleo keeps clawing at the front door! She doesn’t even want to stay with me anymore. She stares at me with so much resentment because I don’t let her play with you all the time!”
“I’m confused,” you said, your eyebrows furrowing. “Why don’t you let her play with me if that’s why she hates you? Your problem has a very simple solution—”
“But she’s my cat!” he said, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He stepped closer to you, desperation evident on his features. “I don’t care if she plays with you, but the more she does, the more she realises that she’d rather have you take care of her.”
“Well,” you sputtered, a little taken aback by how much his cat’s preferences had distraught him. “If it’s any consolation to you, I don’t have the time or resources to look after Cleo, so she has no choice but to stay with you.”
“I don’t know how to make her love me again,” Jungwon mumbled to himself, not having heard you at all. “I know cats aren’t very loyal, but I didn’t think Cleo would dump me after everything we’ve gone through. I pay the landlord more money so she can keep staying with me without having to hide from anyone. I fought—”
“Yang!” you yelled and grabbed his shoulders. He snapped out of his reverie and looked at you in despair. You’d never thought you would feel bad for him, but you found yourself offering, “Do you want me to show you how I play with her? I don’t know why she prefers me over you, but maybe I’m doing something you aren’t. Maybe you’ll know what it is if we play with her together.”
Jungwon nodded eagerly. “Yeah, let’s go.”
“Now?” you asked incredulously. “I have to meet a friend for dinner.”
“Please,” he begged, and you didn’t think you’d ever heard him sound so hopeless before. “Just for ten minutes.”
You hesitated a bit for a moment, but then reluctantly agreed. “Ten minutes.”
Jungwon watched in awe as you interacted with Cleo. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw his ginger Ragamuffin so excited.
“Hey, Cleo,” you cooed, cupping her face in your hands. “How are you doing? How’s the most precious girl in the world doing?”
Cleo purred and leaned into your touch. Smiling, you caressed her cheeks and kissed her nose.
Gathering her in your arms, you stood up. The cat rested her head on your shoulder and closed her eyes.
“I really don’t see Cleo hating anyone,” you said to Jungwon, a small frown settling on your features. “I mean, look at her.”
He sighed and padded towards you, stopping only when he was right beside. His arm brushed against yours. “I don’t get it either.”
And then, as if to prove to you that he wasn’t lying about his cat having something against him, Jungwon lightly petted her.
Cleo’s eyes snapped open and her nails popped out. She pawed at him and he withdrew his hand immediately.
“Oh.”
“I don’t understand why she’s acting this way,” he lamented. “She was good to me until you came along!”
You scoffed in disbelief. “Are you seriously saying this is my fault? Did you even consider the possibility of you being a horrible owner?”
“You did not just say that!” Jungwon looked extremely offended, but you didn’t give a shit. You couldn’t believe he was blaming you for his problems.
“I don’t even need to say anything,” you sneered. “Cleo running away from you to me speaks volumes.”
You saw your neighbour’s jaw clench. His hands curled into fists at his side, and you wondered if you’d gone too far. You know he loved his cat; insinuating that he wasn’t taking good care of her probably hurt.
Besides, you knew it wasn’t true. Jungwon was a huge animal enthusiast. He’d looked after a turtle when he was five and had decided then and there that a career surrounded by animals was what he wanted. He was studying to be a veterinary doctor now.
Before you could open your mouth to apologise, he muttered, “I should have known this was a bad idea.”
Your blood boiled once again. “You really do have a knack for being the most ungrateful asshole anyone could ever come across, Yang.”
In your arms, Cleo meowed and lifted her head from your shoulder, staring daggers at her owner.
“Ungrateful?” Jungwon snorted in disbelief, not noticing the glares the Ragamuffin was sending his way. “You haven’t done anything since you came here! I don’t have shit to be grateful for.”
Cleo growled, and the boy finally acknowledged her anger.
You pointed a finger at Jungwon and fumed, “I take back what I said before. I do see Cleo hating you. You’re a little bitch who—”
“Oh, spare me.” He cut you off with a roll of his eyes, but you paid him no heed and continued,
“Maybe she’d like you better if you liked me better!”
The cat meowed again. The message was very clear. She agreed.
“I do like you...” Jungwon said defensively, but it was a pathetic attempt that convinced no one. Especially not Cleo.
“Yeah, sure.” You let out a humourless laugh. “You’ve obviously been a jerk to me from the very start because you think you’re the unapproachable, dark-haired, broody lead and I’m the sunshine who is supposed to make you open up.”
He gave you a sour look. “You’re not the sunshine.”
“And you’re not the main character you think you are. I’m not going to put up with your attitude anymore. Just stop being a dick and tell me what you have against me.”
Jungwon hesitated for a moment. You watched as he contemplated whether or not to tell you the real reason behind his grudge, and with each passing second, you slowly started to get a good idea of why.
You knew it was going to be something stupid.
He proved you right.
“I was trying to rent the apartment you’re living in. It has a better view and is way bigger. I live with a cat and you live alone—I thought it was unfair that the landlord chose someone who doesn’t even need the space.”
You were speechless for a while. You took your sweet time to wrap your head around the fact that Yang Jungwon was one petty son of a bitch.
“That’s it?” you finally asked. “You hate me because I snagged the apartment you wanted fair and square?”
He didn’t confirm. He didn’t need to.
You exclaimed, “Grow the hell up, Yang! So what if I got it? It’s been six months; move on!”
“You don’t need it as much as I do!” he protested.
“You don’t know that!” you said angrily. “You don’t know me! You never tried to.”
Jungwon opened his mouth to retort, but he didn’t really know what to say. He knew he was the one at fault. Maybe he should have apologised.
Too bad his stubbornness wouldn’t let him go down without a fight.
“It’s not like you ever tried to get to know me either,” Jungwon muttered.
“I brought you home-baked cookies the day I moved in. You said you didn’t want them and shut the door in my face. I invited you to my house-warming party too, but neither did you reply to my email nor show up. You really think I didn’t try to get to know you? To be friends with you?”
Your voice was laced with bitterness, but there were traces of genuine sorrow in it as well. The fire in your eyes from your bickering had winked out and you looked tired.
The boy found his resolve crumbling. Shame and guilt began to build claw at him from the inside. Maybe he had been unnecessarily harsh.
“I—uh..” Jungwon tried, “I’m sorry.”
You raised your eyebrows. “For being so rude to you, I mean, ” he added hastily. “You didn’t deserve it.”
The apology could have been way better but you weren’t going to complain. “Okay.”
Setting Cleo on the floor again, you moved towards the front door of his apartment. “I’ll get going.”
However, before you could turn the knob, Jungwon blurted, “Are—are you free now? Maybe we can hang out and get to know each other?”
“Oh.” You were dumbfounded. Out of all the things you expected him to say, this was not it. “I have to meet a friend tonight. I told you.”
Embarrassment tinted his ears a deep red. “Right,” he squeaked after clearing his throat. “Forget I asked.”
“Well—” you started after a beat of awkward silence— “I won’t be out for that long. Do you wanna come over to watch a movie later?”
“I have to get up early tomorrow.”
You decided that this was clearly not working out—but it wasn’t that bad. So what if Jungwon and you couldn’t hang out? You were on good terms now. That was an immense improvement in your relationship already.
Your neighbour, however, didn’t seem to be in the mood to cut his losses and move on. He tried again, “The weekend?”
You paused. Racked your brain to make sure you didn’t have any other commitments. “The weekend.”
“It’s a date.”
Strangely, you didn’t correct Jungwon. He didn’t take his words back either.
Cleo’s tail swayed in silent approval.
#enhypen imagines#jungwon imagines#enhypen scenarios#jungwon scenarios#enhypen fluff#jungwon fluff#enhypen x reader#jungwon x reader#enhypen#yang jungwon#enhypen fanfiction#jungwon fanfiction#enhypen reactions#enhypen headcanons#enhypen oneshots#jungwon oneshots#enhypen drabbles#jungwon drabbles#enhypen soft hours#jungwon soft hours#enhypen timestamps#jungwon timestamps#enhypen fanfic#jungwon fanfic#enhypen blurbs#jungwon blurbs
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Hello fellow QSMP Tumblr people, I would like to make a offer and would love to see if this can catch on.
If we're adopting A1, let's go all out. We're taking care of this kid.
At least three times a week, someone on Tumblr, under the "qsmp a1 tasks" tag, should draw or write something about A1 doing at least one of the official tasks for that day or the prior few days (cause I know it takes time to draw or write). It doesn't have to be huge, could be anything from a sketch to a full picture or comic, from a few sentences to a full short story, as long as it appears under the tag and has something to do with A1 and one of the recent tasks! (Please say somewhere what task you're doing and what day it was from.)
A1 doesn't mind what name you use - Ai, Aaron, Ivan, just A1, something else entirely - as long as you still use the right tag so everyone can see that there's been a task completed. They also use any pronouns and have a whole wardrobe of accessories, again as long as it's clear in the art or story that the egg is A1 and not one of the other eggs.
Feel free though to include yourself or your OCs or one of the QSMP members or none or all of them, this is just a series of writing/drawing prompts with a purpose, go wild and have fun!
Due to it being Saturday already, required tasks won't start until this Monday. After that, let's see how long we can keep our community's new kid going!
Updates account
If anyone would like to translate this into any of the other three languages, I will gladly add the translations to this post and credit you for doing so. I want to make this visible and accessible to as many people as possible.
Translations below (French by @lb1412, Portuguese by @aurora-bore-aura)
Portuguese:
Oi pessoal do QSMP Tumblr, eu queria fazer uma oferta e eu adoraria ver se isso irá se espalhar mais.
Se a gente tá adotando A1, vamos com tudo. A gente vai cuidar dessa criança.
Três vezes por semana pelo menos, alguém no Tumblr, na tag "qsmp a1 tasks", tem que postar um desenho ou escrever sobre A1 fazendo uma das tarefas oficiais daquele dia ou uns dias antes (porque eu sei que leva tempo pra fazer arte). Não precisa ser muito, pode ser um esboço(sketch) pra um desenho completo ou quadrinho, de algumas frases para uma pequena história completa. Que precisa é ao menos aparecer na tag e ter relação com A1 e as tarefas recentes! (Por favor diga em algum lugar que tarefa se tá fazendo e que dia foi ela)
A1 não tem preferência com o nome ou pronome que você usar — Ai, Aaron, Ivan, só A1, algum outro que se faça — desde que você ainda use a tag dita pra que todo mundo veja que tarefa foi feita. Além de liberdade de pronomes ele tem um armário cheio de acessórios, então por favor deixe claro em algum lugar da sua arte ou história que o ovo é o A1 e não um dos outros.
Sinta-se livre pra incluir você, ou um dos seus personagens, ou um dos membros do QSMP, ou ninguém, ou todo mundo acima. Isso aqui é só uma série de sinopses para desenhar/escrever com um propósito, se solta e se divirta!
Como já é sábado, as tarefas necessárias não vão aparecer até segunda-feira. Depois da revelação, vamos ver por quanto tempo podemos manter a nova criança da comunidade!
French:
Salut les fans du QSMP, j'ai une proposition à vous faire et j'adorerais voir si ça peut devenir concret.
Quitte à adopter A1, sortons le grand jeu. On va s'occuper de cet enfant.
Il faudrait qu'au moins trois fois par semaine, quelqu'un sur Tumblr dessine ou écrive quelque chose où A1 fait au moins l'une des tâches officielles du jour ou de l'un des jours précédents (parce que je sais que dessiner ou écrire, ça prend du temps), et le poste sur le tag "qsmp a1 tasks". Pas besoin de faire quelque chose d'y mettre énormément d'efforts, ça pourrait être n'importe quoi, d'un croquis à une illustration ou BD complète, de quelques phrases à une courte histoire complète, tant que c'est posté dans le tag et que ça a un lien avec A1 et l'une des tâches récentes ! (S'il vous plaît, notez quelque part de quelle tâche vous vous chargez et le jour auquel ça correspond.)
Peu importe quel nom vous utilisez pour A1 (Ai, Aaron, Ivan, juste A1, ou même un tout autre nom), cela ne lea dérange pas tant que vous utilisez le bon tag pour que tout le monde puisse voir qu'une tâche a été accomplie. Iel utilise n'importe quels pronoms et possède toute une galerie d'accessoires, tant, encore une fois, qu'il est clair dans le dessin ou l'histoire qu'il s'agit d'A1 et pas d'un autre œuf.
Sentez-vous libre de vous inclure vous, vos OCs, l'un des membres du QSMP, tous les membres, ou même aucun, ce ne sont qu'une série de prompts de dessin/d'écriture avec un but précis, faites-vous plaisir et amusez-vous bien !
Puisqu'on est déjà samedi, les tâches nécessaires ne compteront pas avant lundi. Après ça, essayons de voir combien de temps la communauté peut maintenir notre nouvel enfant en vie !
#qsmp#qsmp eggs#qsmp a1 tasks#qsmp aaron#qsmp ai#art prompt#writing prompt#time to test this social experiment and see how much we've all pack bonded with anything egg-shaped
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hi there can i ask what are your favourite fics??
ahhhhhh this was so hard to narrow down since i think i have something like 300 beatles fics bookmarked on ao3 (plus a ton saved from livejournal but i’ve only included ao3 ones here). at first i was gonna pick a top 5 or top 10 but that was too hard so here are my top 24-ish i think? could have picked a lot more tbh. i only included fics that are completed, even though there are a lot i love that are either WIP or abandoned. also didn’t include any modern AUs though there’s a lot of those that i love as well! if anyone has any specific requests for other fic reqs i’m always happy to suggest more :)
on our way back home by kathleenishereagain
this fic has the most kudos in the fandom for a reason! old paul time travels back to the touring days and his relationship with john changes from there. love the way they integrated the magical realism into this and it’s just such a beautiful, touching story.
knowing that the sun is there by tarenas
john comes out after brian dies. lovely look at john’s individual relationships with all of the beatles and cynthia (but especially his relationship with paul of course)
cutting water with a knife by savageandwise
may’s perspective on john and paul. love love love. heartbreakingly realistic and so poignant. feels like it could have been a cut chapter out of loving john.
i’m so tired, my mind is set on you by dornfelder
god how i wish this is what would have happened in india. i’ve read this fic so many times, it just feels so real i keep coming back to it.
india, actually by inspiteallthedanger
jane notices that john’s india tapes are all of paul a la love actually. love jane in this and paul and john’s dynamic is great.
grow old with me by inherownwrite
john and paul in scotland in the 80s - paul breaks his arm and gives john a fright. such a tender picture of what could have been had things not ended how they did.
i was a younger man then (now) (post hoc) by fingersfallingupwards
using the time traveller’s wife premise in quite literally the best way i have ever read. the way it unfolds is…. stunning.
having coffee by dornfelder
old paul and john reflecting on life and being outed in the 80s through an interview. lovely.
to lead a better life by downtothelastdrop
1966 ringo mistakenly thinks john and paul are together, leading to a revelation of paul’s own.
going nowhere by inspiteallthedanger
fix-it where after surviving the shooting, john moves back to england.
if i could choose my own name, it’d be the one that falls best from your lips by kandakicksass
one of my favourite reincarnation fics ever. i really enjoyed how simple it was, how the pieces just slid into place so naturally.
the birthday party by merseydreams
everyone reunites for ringo’s 40th in july 1980. an excellent look at the dynamic between all the bugs and how things could have gone.
something old something new by inspiteallthedanger
john shows up to pattie and eric’s wedding causing a beatles reunion for the first time in years and some shenanigans and talks with paul. this fic is hilarious and THIS is my george, i love him so much
1967 by please_dont_wake_me
paul and john stay in paris after their 1961 trip. they return to liverpool in 1967 as a couple. this feels so real, the way every minor character is written… the dynamics between them all - every detail is excellent.
the beatles holiday au series by econhomework
an AU that follows john and paul (and george/ringo) being a committed couple in the 60s/70s and having their children via surrogacy. i’ve been subscribed to this series for years now and it’s a lot of fun getting an update that builds upon the last around every holiday, giving a little snippet into their lives as the kids grow up chronologically. (they also have other fics set in this AU in their beatles fic requests series)
the brother dearest series by javelinbk
jim and mimi get married, causing john and paul to become step-brothers (sort of). interesting premise and an even better execution of it. not to mention the idea of jim and mimi getting together will never fail to make me laugh (but also sort of makes a lot of sense???)
how much was mine to keep by mynamesbetty
paul is ‘unstuck in time’ and lives his life out of order a la slaughterhouse five (one of my favourite novels). done very well.
take a sad song and make it better by javelinbk
1980s paul moves his ex-boyfriend into his house because he’s an idiot but i love him. great fix-it.
christmas lights (keep shinin’ on) by distinguished_like
paul invites john to the mccartney family christmas party, leading to some discussions between the two. very cute early years fic.
here today by herspecialagent005
december 1980 except john and paul are hosting a dinner party for some friends in scotland, with magical realism elements. ugh loved this so much, especially linda and just all the little details of john and paul settling into a life together.
kissing the blarney by tikk
paul is the blarney - this turns into a superstitious ritual in the band which emotionally complicates things but ends very satisfyingly.
writing letters (on my wall) by 15clubsaday
70s paul writes to john under a pseudonym while they aren’t speaking. newly finished and wonderful!
the jumper by merseydreams
john sees denny laine wearing HIS jumper and flies back to england to retrieve it. this fic has everything: miscommunication, john being a dumb shite, jealousy, confused denny laine, paul in all his 70s glory, and lesbian linda. truly could not ask for more.
back to where you belong by sleeprettydarling
george on johnandpaul throughout the early years. i’m a big sucker for the george & johnandpaul dynamic and how complicated and devastating it can be so naturally i loved this.
#sorry this is so long anon! but thanks for the ask hope you found some new fics to check out! :)#asks#mclennon#beatles fic#john and paul#beatles rpf#john lennon#paul mccartney#the beatles
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HL Fic Library 🩷 Meet Cute Fics
Remember to leave kudos and a comment on the fics you enjoyed to show your appreciation! You can find the library's other recs here.
🩷 You Make Lovin' Fun by @homosociallyyours {E, 109k}
Harry is a 28 year old travel writer at a gay magazine who gets the assignment to go a lesbian cruise. She figures it's a nice chance to have some fun in the sun, but she's not expecting much else-- even if her partner and best friend are both encouraging her to hook up with someone while she's there.
When she locks eyes with a gorgeous silver fox from across the room, she starts to think she could've been wrong. There are lots of things standing in the way of anything real happening with her and Louis, but that doesn't stop them from falling for one another. True love isn't always easy, but they do make lovin' fun.
🩷 Quiet People Have the Loudest Minds by @2tiedships2 {M, 38k}
Broadway shows were one of the few things that could keep Louis’ attention for a full two hours without needing to move about. But not tonight.
The alpha next to him was both infuriating him and practically turning him on at the same time. He needed to leave. The alpha, that is. Louis was staying.
Or the one where Louis is a nonverbal omega who has accepted the fact that he will never find an alpha that will treat him as an equal. On the other hand, he’s never met anyone like Harry.
🩷 hymns for restless stars by @turnyourankle {E, 37k}
Every Holiday season Louis has his pupils write down their Christmas wishes for class. He's read almost every wish under the sun, but one girl's wish takes him by surprise. It's for her uncle not to be alone anymore. It's not a wild wish by any means, but Louis had no idea that former teen idol Harry Styles was lonely in the first place.
🩷 From the Start by @allwaswell16 {E, 32k}
Louis has no idea that one act of kindness will cause his life to spiral out of control. But that's what happens when his new friend fake proposes to him and a video of it goes viral.
🩷 On This Winter's Night by @reminiscingintherain {T, 27k}
When a random bloke offers his lap for a seat on a busy bus in December, Louis' Christmas ends up being much different, and far less lonely than he was expecting.
🩷 What Side Of Love Are You On? by @fallinglikethis {T, 25k}
Ever since Harry finally made the decision to come out to his mother as bisexual, she’s been foisting women on him left and right, determined it’s just a phase. But when she puts out a personal ad to find the perfect partner for her son, things really get complicated. Suddenly, Harry’s heart is being pulled in two very different directions. On one side is the sweet, caring woman he has fun with, but doesn’t know his mother chose for him. On the other is a man who seems to be his mother’s worst nightmare, but makes Harry’s heart flutter in ways he’s never felt before. When all is said and done, maybe they’ll all learn that when there is no clear path to go down, the best option is to follow your heart.
A Because I Said So Au with a bisexual twist.
🩷 A Road To Something Better by @taggiecb {E, 25k}
Louis Tomlinson, famous romance novelist, has just had the rug pulled out from under his feet when his boyfriend leaves him without notice. What's the most appropriate response to this? Move a thousand miles away and seclude himself in a tiny lake town, of course. But nothing is as he expects it to be in the very best way, especially not the handsome mayor of McAll, Idaho.
🩷 Naked & Proud by kiwikero / @icanhazzalou {E, 18k}
The town itself is tiny, as evidenced by the ten minutes it’s taken Louis to drive the entire thing. There’s not a single recognisable brand in sight—no Tesco or McDonald’s or even a bloody Starbucks. Lining the streets instead are mom and pop stores with names like ‘Jerry’s Burgers’ and ‘The Market Basket’ and…
“'Naked & Proud?'” Louis almost slams on the brakes at the outlandish sign, the name written in a seemingly innocent font, words curved around a large cartoon peach. He can’t help turning into the carpark, easing the car into a spot next to a beat up truck.
He isn’t sure what to make of it. Surely it isn’t a strip joint or sex shop, not with the families and little old ladies going in and out of the establishment. Some kind of nudist hangout, perhaps?
And, oh, God. Did Louis’ mother accidentally send him to live in a nudist colony?
In which Harry runs an organic store, not a nudist colony, and Louis doesn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed.
🩷 Single Bells Ring by nonsensedarling / @absoloutenonsense {M, 16k}
A holiday singles event is not where Louis wants to be tonight, but there he is, helping his best friend find love. Just as Louis is settling in, ready to have a terrible time, he meets the fittest alpha he’s ever come across.
🩷 love so soft, you ain’t had nothing softer (series) by @neondiamond {E, 15k}
Louis is an Alpha with an odd obsession for gummy bears. Harry is an Omega who makes friends a little too easily. They meet on the bus.
🩷 Breathe me in, breathe me out by @lunarheslwt {G, 14k}
Louis was just passing the autumn collection, when an unfamiliar but addicting scent tickled his nose. Cinnamon. He turned as he realised something. He felt calm. Relaxed. The permanent agitation that he carried was melting away the more he breathed in the scent, as faint as it was. Consumed by the crazed desire to seek out the specific candle, Louis began picking up candles and sniffing them madly, when a deep voice piped up, startling him. “Uh, sir, we don’t allow candle fetishists in here.” Louis froze mid sniff in mortification. Willing himself to not blush, he turned, a retort at the tip of his tongue. Except, it died in his throat as he took in the man before him. “I uh,” Louis blurted out accidentally, temporarily rendered speechless by the frankly unfairly beautiful man before him. Only at the man’s grin widening did he regain his wits. “You’re gonna kink shame me?”
Or, Louis is drawn into a quaint candle shop in his desire to find ways to soothe himself while struggling with touch depri. It takes him two more run-ins and with the lovely alpha sales assistant, and a drop, to figure out the source of the scent that imprints upon him and calms his omega. Idiots to lovers
🩷 Far Afield by QuickedWeen / @becomeawendybird {T, 11k}
Harry Styles is a witch who owns the best flower shop in Manchester. Lottie Tomlinson is planning her wedding, and brings her brother along to her first appointment. Both men have been having a bad day and sparks fly.
🩷 The Art of the Giants by asphodelknox / @iamasphodelknox {G, 10k}
Louis is dancing away from an old relationship when he meets Harry at a bookstore in the busy streets of Seattle. Harry is just a bookstore owner hoping his handsome weekly visitor could become something more.
🩷 All Shook Up by @littleroverlouis {T, 9k}
Memphis, Tennessee is looking to crown the Ultimate Elvis Tribute artist. A majority of the contestants are content to shake their hips on stage, but singer-songwriter Harry is taking it more seriously. He is confident his voice and charisma will send him straight through to the finals.
He is already polishing his crown before even setting foot on stage, until he meets a fellow competitor. Louis is talented, charming, and a natural born performer. He commands the stage— and Harry's attention.
Harry has his eye on the prize and the Ultimate title, but what happens when someone becomes the ultimate prize?
🩷 The Way to My Heart by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13 {T, 6k}
Louis' having a bit of a dry spell, until he bumps into an attractive alpha in the supermarket and leaves with his number. It was a hard bump. Very... muscular.
The only problem is, said alpha asks Louis to cook for him - which is not exactly his skill set.
🩷 Only Reason by @letsjustsee {NR, 5k}
“We are so lucky to have with us one of the leading experts on beekeeping in the modern age, Dr. Louis Draper.” No. No, no, no… “I know I speak for many of us when I say that this man’s books have guided our practice, or helped us get started,” Harry continued, and Louis watched as the crowd nodded their heads in agreement. Oh shit. No. What? No. But then Harry was gesturing towards him, saying “Dr. Draper?” into the microphone, the crowd was applauding, and Louis found himself walking up the stairs to the stage.
Or, Louis is most definitely smitten with Harry from the second he sees him, but he is also most definitely not the world's foremost expert on beekeeping. He decides to roll with it anyway.
🩷 Unplant by @hellolovers13 {M, 4k}
Please do not disturb my plant She needs 2 hours of sunlight a day and I live in a sunless flat I’ll be back to collect her soon Thank you and stay well.
or Louis should've looked where he was going, then he wouldn't have to desperately try to save a little flower now.
🩷 Validation by @lululawrence {NR, 3k}
“Hey, how are you?” Harry asked. He’d found that sometimes just a smile and a kind face was all that was needed to brighten someone’s day.
“Oh, uhm. I’m alright. Can you validate me?”
Harry chuckled inwardly, but decided to go ahead and take him literally.
Or the one where Harry worked in a parking garage and he totally didn’t mean for this, the whole validation of people as well as their parking tickets, to become a thing. It just kinda...did.
🩷 more than that by @nouies {NR, 3k}
Harry looks for the best bread in France. He finds Louis.
🩷 an honest mistake by @disgruntledkittenface {NR, 2k}
“You look different when you’re not covered in come,” he blurts out, immediately regretting each and every life choice that has led to this exact moment. Elevator Guy is going to hate him.
Louis has ridden the elevator with his neighbor all week. The first time they speak, there’s a misunderstanding.
#ficrec#meetcute#hljournal#hlcreators#trackinghappily#1dficvillage#trackinghome#hlsource#hltracks#disgruntledkittenface#nouies#allwaswell16#lululawrence#hellolovers13#letsjustsee#ladyaj13#littleroverlouis#asphodelknox#quickedween#neondiamond#lunarheslwt#kiwikero#taggiecb#2tiedships2#nonsensedarling#homosociallyyours#turnyourankle#fallinglikethis#reminsicingintherain
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Hey idk if this has already been done but an Echo x reader enemies to lovers like reader is a separatist.
First Burn
Summary: The Separatists have won the war. The Republic lies in tatters, and the Clone Army has been repurposed for use for the Separatist Army. You are a member of Serrano’s Intelligence Department, and you just found out that you’re being gifted a clone to help you with your work. Needless to say, no one is thrilled about this.
Pairing: ARC Trooper Echo x F!Reader
Word Count: 2484
Warnings: None
Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly
A/N: Alright, sorry that this took so long, but I've been working on it since I got it, basically, and I only managed to think of an ending that made me happy today. I hope you like it! The title comes from a Hamilton song, I think. It doesn't have anything to do with the story, but it's what I was listening to when I started writing. And, for all that this is an AU, it is not part of my AU event.
“I’m not sure I understand,” You say blankly as you look from the irate-looking man, clapped in chains, over to your direct supervisor, “Has my work been less than satisfactory?”
“Not at all.” Your Supervisor, who also happens to be your uncle and your warden, replies as he roughly claps you on the shoulder, “Count Dooku is very happy with your work. Which is why you’re getting a clone.”
The clone in question glowers at your uncle, and you’re not sure you blame him.
“You want someone who, up until a month ago, was an enemy against us to work in intelligence? Does this seem...wise?”
“It’s fine. It’s hardly clever enough to interfere.”
You’d be stunned by your uncle’s casual racism if you weren’t used to it. So you sigh and rub the back of your head, “Alright. But when this goes terribly, I reserve the right to say, ‘I told you so’.”
“Ha! You won’t have to.” He claps your shoulder one more time, “Have fun!” And then he’s gone, leaving you alone with a man who, you’re sure, would sooner put a blade in your throat than anything else.
“Right, well...what should I call you?” You finally ask.
“CT-1409.”
“...right. I’m not calling you by a number.” You can’t help but wonder if the Republic ever gave him a name. It would be awful if they hadn’t.
You’re surprised when he looks surprised. What kind of awful stories must the Republic have spread about your people for him to be surprised at your statement?
“...My brothers call me Echo.”
“Echo,” You nod once, committing his name to memory. And then, almost carelessly, “Nice to meet you, Echo.” You absolutely need him to see you as a person, rather than a Separatist. Because if he wanted to hurt you, no one would come to save you.
He shoots you a look, “Where are my brothers?”
“No idea. But I can look into it if you want.” You turn and head deeper into your domain, “Follow me please, there are some safety things we need to cover.”
“Like what?” Echo sounds sarcastic, though he is following you, so you’ll accept the small win.
“Well, primarily, this facility is located deep underground. Most of the machines down here are dedicated to life support. If any of them stop working, we die before anyone even realizes that there’s something wrong.” You reply.
“It would take time to run out of air.” He argues back, logically.
You pause and look at him, “You misunderstand. If any of these machines break down, this entire facility will be filled with toxic gas. We’d be dead before we even knew what was happening.”
Echo stares at you, “What.” It doesn’t sound like a question.
“Toxic gas. Dead instantly. I’m not sure what wasn’t clear about that.”
“I’m more confused by the fact that this sounds like a prison rather than a place spies hang out.”
Well. He’s not wrong.
You shrug but continue, “We have a small army of maintenance droids whose sole function is to keep the machines working. Please don’t mess with the droids.”
“Noted.” He follows you further into the facility and then stops, “Aside from the droids, I haven’t seen any other people.”
“Yeah, well. That’s because there aren’t.”
“So, what,” Wow, his sarcasm could be used as a weapon with how skillfully he wields it, “You work alone in intelligence?”
You shake your head, “There are plenty of people who work in intelligence, but I’m the only one who works here. I’m the best analyst that Serrano has.”
“So you work alone.”
“Well, it’s not like I can leave, now is it?” You start walking again, “Keep up, Echo.”
He falls into step next to you, though he doesn’t say anything as you show him around the facility. It’s not large, all things considered.
The majority of the space is filled with all of the machines and computers needed to run the life support. Your working area is a decently sized room that could probably fit ten people comfortably, for all that you use it alone.
The living space, though, is much more homey.
“So, this is where we sleep. And eat.” you pause, “And basically do everything that isn’t work.”
It’s not tiny. There are two distinct bedrooms, on opposite sides of the living room, and each bedroom has a fresher attached to it. The kitchen is decently sized and has all of the appliances that you might need to survive.
“My room is the one closest to the door,” You motion to the door, and then you motion to the other one, “That one’s been empty since I was moved in, but I air it out and clean it weekly so you don’t have to worry about dust or mold.”
“Moved in—”
“Sorry?”
Echo glances at you, “You said you were moved in, not that you moved in.”
You don’t say anything for a moment, taking your time to consider your words carefully, “Once, there was a group of people who felt, strongly, that the way that Dooku was doing things was not beneficial to Serrano as a whole.” You finally say, “Unfortunately, being a former Jedi is like having a cheat code for life, so—”
“So this is actually a prison then.”
You smile bitterly and hold your hands to the side, “And we both have life sentences.”
Something softens in his hard gaze, “I’m sorry.”
You shrug, “Don’t be. I made my choice, and I made it knowing what the consequences might be.”
“Brave.”
You laugh, “Well, you’d be the only one who thinks that.” You head into your kitchen and wave your hand over the holo-computer to wake it up from its sleep, “Anyway, this is where we order food, clothes, and personal things that we might need.” You explain, “Orders need to be submitted by 6 pm on the last day of the work week, and everything we order will be delivered by noon the next day.”
You move one of the holograms, showing a half-formed grocery list.
“And it’s delivered accurately?”
“Yep. If we can’t get a specific item, a message will arrive to my personal comm.” You explain, “I’ll add you to the contact list so you can get those comms too.” You fold your arms, “What else—”
Echo leans in and adds a couple of food items to the list, looking impressed when the list shifts and adjusts itself so it remains sorted logically.
“Ah! Laundry!” You walk over to a sliding wood door and pull it open, “Washer, dryer,” You point to each object individually, “We’ll probably want to work out a chore schedule, but I don’t have a problem doing all of the laundry.” You point to three baskets, “Darks, lights, towels. Our dryer isn’t the best, so towels need to be dried on their own or nothing will get dry.”
Echo stares at you, and then his gaze slides around the room. “How long have you been down here?” He finally asks.
“I was thrown down here 6 months after the war started.” You reply honestly.
Echo turns his gaze back to you, “You’ve been down here for almost two years? Alone?”
“Well, it’s not so bad.” You lie with a shrug, “Nothing was stopping me from enrolling in the local University so I got another degree. In Communications. And I learned how to cook.”
“You had to have been lonely though.”
“Well. Loneliness is relative. Better here than dead, right?”
“I guess.” Echo looks around for a moment, “You never tried to escape?”
“Yeah, I did mention the toxic gas, right? Kill us instantly?” You shrug, “Besides, where would I go? My uncle is the warden.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. Anyway, you should probably go and put in an order for clothes and hygiene stuff. There’s enough clothes in storage that you’ll be fine for a bit, but they’re old.”
“Yeah. Good idea.” He murmurs.
“And you wanted me to look in on your brothers, right? Got any names?”
“My twin brother, Fives. And a couple of others. Jesse, Rex, Kix—”
You pass him a pad of paper and pen, “Here, write them down. And I’ll see what I can dig up.”
“Thank you.”
“Thank me after I find you answers, and not a moment sooner.” You flash a small smile at him and then turn to head back to the storage room. Echo needs the spare clothes from previous prisoners, and he’s going to need time to write down names.
Still, it is nice to have someone to talk to after all these years.
You hope that he warms up to you eventually. Or this is going to be a very long life sentence.
Eight months into his life sentence, Echo has to admit that it’s not terrible.
Oh, it’s not great by any definition of the word either. But it could be worse.
His cellmate is a stellar chef, a talent created through years of experimentation. Not to mention she’s quick-witted and clever, able to exchange quips and barbs with him without stumbling over her tongue.
She does talk a lot, though. Non-stop, almost.
He’s not dumb, he knows that it’s a habit that she developed over two years of isolation to keep herself sane. Honestly, she talks almost as much as Fives does. Luckily, he’s used to that.
And, begrudgingly, he likes her. Likes her enough that he gives her a nickname, Firefly.
Likes her enough that, four months ago, his plans for an escape morphed into plans for the both of them to escape. He just has to work out a couple of bugs.
Like how to keep them from dying when the poison gas fills the prison to kill them.
He frowns at the pad of paper, absently tapping his pencil against the diagram that he’s painstakingly mapped out. Echo never uses a datapad, if he can help it.
Fortunately, firefly keeps a bunch of notebooks on hand, and she doesn’t question him when he asks her to destroy a sheet of paper…or twenty.
“Whatcha working on?”
Echo glances up at her, “You really want to know?”
“Well, yeah.” She waves her pen at him, “You’ve been working on… whatever it is for the last eight months, and I’m curious.”
Echo leans back, “It’s an escape plan.”
“You’d leave me?” She asks immediately.
Echo rolls his eyes, “And escape plan for the both of us.”
Surprise flashes across her face, “You’d take me with you?”
“Would you prefer that I left you behind?”
“Ah, no.” She grins at him, “Honestly, I thought you hated me and were just being polite.”
Echo stares at her, “I gave you a nickname.” He says, exasperated.
“True, but as a friend or foe, you were very unclear.”
He laughs, “Who gives foe nicknames?”
“You clearly never met my friends.” She replies, “My bff had a nemesis who she called Furnace.”
“Do people have nemeses?”
“Uh, they do if they’re dramatic.”
He laughs again, “Well, I don’t do foe nicknames.”
She hops to her feet and crosses the living room to drop on the couch next to him and she flings her arms around his neck, “You loooove me~”
Echo presses his hand over her face and pushes her off of him, “Stop being silly.”
“Never.”
He rolls his eyes, “Anyway, this is what I have, but I’m stuck on how to deal with the poison gas.”
She ducks under his hand and leans against his shoulder, scanning the map. A thoughtful escapes her, and then she taps a spot on the map, “The Maintenence tunnels.”
“No, I considered that. They get too hot for a human to survive.”
“Yes, they do.” She agrees, “But if we alter a maintenance droid, the maintenance tunnels will stay cool enough for someone to survive the tunnel.”
“But the poison gas—”
“Is light.”
“Sorry?”
“The gas is very toxic, but it’s also a very light gas. It rises.”
“So, if we’re already in the maintenance tunnels—”
“And the temperature is high enough to hide our heat signatures—”
“Then by the time the gas fills the entire prison, we’ll already be gone.” Echo finishes, and then he pauses, “I thought you never tried to escape?”
“Doesn’t mean I didn’t make plans. Hundreds of plans, each more impossible than the last.”
“Why didn’t you try to escape?”
“Escaping the prison is the easy part, Echo. Where would I go? I was a Separatist, the Republic never would have taken me in. It was just safer to stay here.”
“And now?”
“The Republic is no more, and the average person is finally starting to take off their rose-color glasses.” She shrugs, “We might actually be able to steal a ship.”
“Steal, huh?”
“Yeah, well. No one is going to just give us a ship, Echo.”
He laughs softly, “You ever hotwire a ship before?”
“You haven’t?”
“Oh? Where does a nice girl like you learn how to hotwire vehicles?”
“I had a very formative childhood.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Echo leans in so that his face is only an inch away from hers. “You know, I changed my mind. Maybe I do love you.”
“You only love my ideas.”
“Your body isn’t that bad.”
“Rude!”
His grin widens, “So, when can we make this happen?”
“Mm…a week? Maybe two.”
“That soon, huh?”
“That soon.” She agrees.
They fall into a comfortable silence, and then Echo smirks, “So, how do we keep them from getting suspicious?”
“Well, we have to act normal.”
“And when we start spending all of our time together?”
“I dunno, I’m sure we can come up with something.” She says with a sigh.
A slow smirk crosses his face, “I think I have an idea.”
“Oh? Wha—” She squeaks when his lips land against hers, coaxing her into a deep kiss. His tongue slides against her lower lip, as he presses her back so that she’s half lying under him.
“Like that.” Echo breathes out as he supports his weight over her.
She blinks at him, wide-eyed, and deeply flustered, “Yeah. That’ll work.”
“Great, I’ll move into your room, cyare.”
“Um…okay. But the beds aren’t that big.��
Echo leans in and kisses the tip of her nose, “You let me worry about that.”
“And later? When we’re free from Serrano?”
“We stick together. After all, I can’t just abandon my girlfriend, right?”
“Girlfriend?” She asks softly.
“Girlfriend.” Echo agrees, “Unless you’d rather not?”
“Well, I’m not opposed.”
He grins at her, wide and boyish before he leans in and kisses her one more time, “Alright. I need to move my bed into your room. Wanna help?”
“I suppose I’d better.”
Echo rolls off of her, and offers her his hands to pull her to her feet. Fives is going to find this hilarious. He goes to prison and comes out on the other side with a girlfriend.
#star wars#tcw#arc trooper echo x reader#echo x reader#star wars fanfiction#x reader fanfiction#f!reader fic#answered asks
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