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maysileeewrites · 5 months

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Don’t Want You Like A Best Friend

17+ content; mdni!

Part I | series masterlist | my Coryo masterlist

summary: You and Coriolanus have been best friends ever since you can remember. You've always thought of him as the protective older brother you’ve never had, but lately, your feelings towards him have changed - not quite so pure and innocent anymore ...

chapter tags/warnings: some best friends to lovers angst and emotional confusion, lots of fluff, slightly ooc Coryo (don't worry, the possessive jealousy borderline crazy obsessive behavior will come in later parts!), a lil smutty treat at the end of the chapter

word count: 5,7k (it’s worth it, I promise!!)

You and Coriolanus have been best friends ever since you can remember.

You’ve grown up together, experienced everything together, with your family living just across the street from Coroy’s family’s apartment.

You’ve been there for each other during the dark days of the war, when both his parents and your father died. You’ve attended the academy together for years.

You’re planning on going to University together as well, though that is still in the future, seeing as it will be a few more months until you’ll both finally graduate the academy.

Really, Coriolanus is such a constant, important aspect in your life, you can’t imagine life without him.

He’s always there for you - whether it be to laugh over a silly joke one of you two made or to hug and console you after a bad day or to look out for you and protect you.

You’re inseparable, really, spending almost every moment together.

Before, you’ve always thought of him as the protective older brother you’ve never had, but lately, your feelings towards him have changed - they’re not quite so pure and innocent anymore.

Lately, you’ve caught yourself staring at Coriolanus more and more often, gaze lingering on his bright blue eyes, his mischievous smirk, his blond curls or his toned, muscled arms or chest.

When he hugs you, you can’t help but notice how good it feels to be pressed against his toned chest, feeling his heartbeat against your skin.

When he reaches out a hand to brush a stray strand of hair from your face, you have to fight the urge to close your eyes and lean into his warm, comforting touch.

When he reaches out to draw you closer, his hand settling possessively on your waist, the first thought in your head is that this - this feels right. You and Coryo together, as close as possible.

And you can’t help but want, no, crave, more of it.

More of Coryo, more of you two together, more of that dizzying, heady feeling you get whenever he touches you that sends your thoughts spiraling and makes your heartbeat go haywire.

You’ve started to crave his touch more and more, always trying to come up with ways to inconspicuously touch him - letting your hand brush against his, laying a hand on his arm to steady yourself or reaching out a hand to brush a stray curl from his forehead.

You feel yourself starting to get addicted to him more and more - and you have no idea how to stop it.

Though, if you’re honest with yourself- you don’t want to stop it.

You want to get lost in this snow storm of feelings.

“Let’s go through this one more time”, Coryo says from his place at your desk, prompting a sigh from you.

“Coryo”, you say, whining, “we’ve been going through this this whole afternoon. I think you’ve got it. Besides, the test is not until next Monday, you’ve got the whole weekend to continue studying - not that you need it.”

“You know that I can’t afford to get anything other than an A on this test, right?”, Coryo replies, sighing.

“And you know that you’ll get an A, even without studying, Coryo”, you reply, finally sitting up from your sprawled-out position on your bed.

You can see Coryo shaking his head, about to say something else, so you hastily add: “Please, Coryo. I know how much you worry about your grades - I get it, I really do. But, you’ve slowly been driving me insane this afternoon, I can’t go through this stuff yet again, at least not right now.”

When Coryo doesn’t reply immediately, you nervously bite down on your lower lip. You didn’t want to sound so mean, but the truth is that he has been driving you crazy this afternoon. You’ve already gone through all your notes of ancient history three times and you really don’t want to go all through 18 pages - front and back, in Coryo’s small, neat handwriting no less - of notes yet again.

Coryo sighs frustratedly.

You look up, only to find his intense gaze fixed on you, his blue eyes boring into yours. “I’m sorry, you’re right”, he says, sighing again and running a hand through his blond curls. “Maybe I just need to take a break-“

“That sounds wonderful”, you say, cutting him off before he has the chance to add a but to his suggestion.

You get up from your bed, walking over to your desk and grab both of Coryo’s hands, trying to get him to get up, but Coryo doesn’t cooperate, becoming a dead weight to you.

“Coryo, come on”, you plead, huffing a sigh of frustration, when he still makes no move to get up.

You take another step closer to him, putting even more strength into the motion of your arms - just when Coryo smirks up at you, before tugging hard on your hands, causing you to stumble forward; right into his lap.

“Asshole!”, you exclaim, pushing against his chest with your hands, but Coryo doesn’t budge.

He just looks up at you with a triumphant smirk, a daring expression in his blue eyes. Daring you to do what exactly, you’re not quite sure. You just know that you’re trapped in his gaze, unable to do anything but look at him and get lost in his blue, blue eyes.

And - this isn’t the first time that something like this has happened lately. In fact, lately you’ve found Coryo’s eyes lingering on you more and more often, his intense gaze seemingly burning you.

And it should frighten you, how much you’ve come to crave the feeling of his eyes on you. And it does, but there’s something else there as well - a yearning for his attention that hasn’t been there before.

The soft sound of Coryo chuckling at your scowling expression draws you out of your thoughts.

“Need some help?”, he asks you, smirking.

You huff a sigh of frustration, trying to push against his chest again - at the same time that Coryo tugs on your arms again, causing you to shift even more forward in his lap, until you’re pressed flush against his strong, muscular chest.

Flustered, you feel your cheeks warming, your heartbeat quickening. Coryo is so, so close to you, you can feel his breath on your skin, his heartbeat under your hands.

And - well, you’re sitting right in his lap, and once you’ve worked through your initial confusion at his sudden closeness, you can feel something else as well. Something hard pressed against your stomach-

Coryo clears his throat then, gently pushing you away. You stumble, disoriented from the sudden motion, but then Coryo’s hand is there on your waist, steadying you.

He leans in even closer towards you, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. He smiles softly, as if nothing has just happened. “You were saying something about taking a break?”

You swallow, trying to calm your still erratic heartbeat and forcing a smile onto your face. “Sure. How about a snack and some hot chocolate?”

“Finally satisfied with all the torture you’ve put me through today?”, you say, yawning, when you see Coriolanus finally closing his folder - you feel like you’ve been studying for ages and you never want to see his ancient history notes ever again.

He laughs softly, the sound reverberating against your back. You don’t quite know how you’ve ended up in this position - both of you on your bed, Coryo sitting behind you, you sitting between his legs, your head leaning against his chest.

It shouldn’t feel so good, being this close to him, especially after that incident earlier this afternoon- that still has your mind reeling and your cheeks heating up whenever you think about it -, but it does.

In fact, now that you’ve got a taste of it, you don’t ever want it to stop.

You bite down hard on your lip, trying - and failing - to stop this dangerous line of thinking. Because allowing yourself to let your thoughts spiral like this, allowing yourself to feel this nervous, heated energy that’s coursing through your veins, instead of suppressing it, like you’ve done until now - is dangerous.

It will only lead you down a road of heartbreak. Yet you can’t seem to find it in you to hit the brakes and stop.

„Torture?“, Coryo now says, drawing you out of your thoughts. „You seem to be in an awfully good mood for suffering through a whole afternoon of torture.“

You can’t help but smile at his words, though you’re glad that Coryo isn’t able to see it - he’d just call you out and tease you for smiling like an idiot to yourself.

„Yes, well, going through eighteen pages of notes - front and back - four times is torture-“, your words are cut off by a surprised, startled yelp, when suddenly, Coryo starts tickling you.

„No - Coryo, please!“, you manage to get out, but he’s unrelenting, only tickling you harder despite your protests.

Both his hands are wrapped around your waist and your back is pressed flush against his broad chest. And even though you’re still giggling, trying to fight him off, you can also feel that nervous, heady feeling that sends your thoughts and heartbeat haywire again.

You give up trying to fight him off, then, which Coryo immediately notices. He laughs softly, before finally ending his tickling attack and resting his head on the crook of your neck. „Enough torture for today?“, he asks and you can hear the smirk in his voice.

You try to turn around to face him then, but both his hands are still on your waist, trapping you in place. „You’re a jerk, you know that, right?“, you say, though your voice doesn’t sound quite as steady and dry as you’d intended it to.

Coriolanus just laughs, the sensation of his warm breath ghosting over your skin causing you to shiver involuntarily. „You’ve never complained before.“

You huff, rolling your eyes. „Well, you’ve never bothered to acknowledge it.“

„Mhm, that’s probably for the best …“

You roll your eyes again - his answer is just so typically Coryo.

„What, no witty retort?“, Coriolanus asks, but you only shake your head, yawning.

„We both know that you can be quite the jerk, ’s nothing new … besides, it’s late …“, you mumble, trying to suppress another yawn and leaning back against his chest again. It is late - already way past eleven, the street outside your window already dark, safe for the streetlights.

You close your eyes, wishing that you could just stay like this, wrapped in Coryo’s comforting embrace, if only for a short moment longer.

„You’re right, it’s late“, Coriolanus now says. „I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have held you up so long, I should get going …“

„Or you could stay.“

The words are out of your mouth before you’ve thought them through and you can feel yourself flushing again. Now, you’re really glad that you’re still facing away from Coriolanus - you feel like you’d die from embarrassment if he could see your face going beet-red.

„I could …“, he says, his voice uncertain.

„Yes … you, uh, could …“, you say, feeling your cheeks heat up. You’re glad that Coriolanus isn’t able to see it - really, you’re just glad that he hasn’t noticed how weird you’ve been acting around him lately, your heartbeat picking up, your cheeks flushing, your hands getting sweaty when being around him; sometimes just from a single touch or a lingering look from Coryo.

It’s not like you’ve never done this before, like this has never happened before. This wouldn’t be the first time that Coriolanus sleeps over at your place. In fact, he used to do so a lot when you were younger, right after his parents died and he was plagued with nightmares. It stopped happening as often when you both got older, and now, it hasn’t happened in years.

And somehow him sleeping over at your place now seems to be something totally different than him sleeping over at your place when you were both little kids.

You’re not little kids anymore - you’ve changed. You both have. Your friendship has changed, evolved as well.

Coriolanus is still your best friend, the one person you wouldn’t want to live without; but somehow, he’s not just that. He means something more to you as well, something else, something much less innocent than friendship-

„Yes, I could - I mean, only if that’s alright with you and your mother-“

„Sure“, you interrupt him, your voice sounding incredibly high and nervous. Fuck, you think, running a hand through your hair, and trying to calm your erratic heartbeat. „I mean, it’s no big deal …“

Lie.

It is a big deal, but it’s probably for the best that Coriolanus doesn’t know that the thought of falling asleep right next to him excites you way more than it probably should.

Coriolanus laughs softly. „Great … Should we get ready for bed then? It’s quite late and you always take ages getting ready for bed-“

„Just admit that you need your beauty sleep“, you interrupt him, teasing him back. You don’t need to turn around to know that he’s rolling his eyes at your remark.

„Exactly“, he says, dryly, before gently losing his embrace and getting up.

You follow him to the bathroom, your mind still spiraling. Just minutes earlier, you were complaining about going through Coryo’s ancient history notes four times; now, you’re following your best friend to the bathroom that’s connected to your room, to get ready for bed - with your best friend who’s sleeping over.

In your bathroom, you hand Coriolanus a spare toothbrush, a comb and a towel, trying to ignore the tingly feeling in your fingertips when your hands brush against his. But then, he draws you closer with one hand, his hand resting on your waist for just a moment too long and you’re blushing again, the thought that you shouldn’t feel so excited and nervous about your best friend sleeping over already forgotten again.

It takes you quite some time to get ready for bed. Not, as Coriolanus keeps insisting, because of your way too long and time consuming evening routine; but because of him distracting you with his lingering touches and stolen glances - messing your hair up again right after you’ve combed through it; catching your gaze in the mirror over the sink again and again while you’re brushing your teeth; drawing you closer just when you’re about to reach for your night cream.

It’s way past midnight when you’re finally laying down in bed - right next to Coriolanus, who turns to look at you with a soft smile on his face after you’ve reached for the bedsheets, drawing them over you both.

He scoots closer to you, before wrapping an arm around your waist, bringing you even closer to him, your back flush against his chest - the gesture so casual and natural, as if it doesn’t make your heartbeat go haywire.

„Good night“, he whispers, before resting his head on the crook of your neck.

Your heart skips a beat then.

„Good- good night, Coryo“, you manage to get out, your voice wobbly.

You close your eyes, though you already know that actually falling asleep will be almost impossible - how are you supposed to just fall asleep with Coriolanus right there, your back pressed against his chest, his hand on your waist, his head resting on the crook of your neck?

No - you probably won’t even catch a single second of sleep this night.

But somehow, that doesn’t sound too bad. (Not when you get to spend the night like this, with your best friend wrapped around you.)

The next morning, you’re the first one awake.

Coriolanus is still soundly asleep, his even breath ghosting over your skin, causing you to shiver. You’re in almost the same position as you were when you fell asleep, with Coriolanus’s hand on your stomach, his head resting on your shoulder.

You were right, you think, yawning, you didn’t get much sleep. It took you ages to fall asleep, your mind still reeling from Coriolanus’s overwhelming closeness. You must have fallen asleep at some point though, because you distinctly remember waking from Coriolanus tightening his hold on you and muttering some unintelligible.

You yawn again, carefully turning around to face Coriolanus.

He’s still asleep.

You can’t help but let your gaze linger on him, study his face - as if you haven’t already memorized every single one of his features. He looks so calm and peaceful when he sleeps, his expression soft and open.

Without thinking, you reach up with one hand and brush a stray blond curl from his forehead. The motion seems to wake Coriolanus though, because his eyes flutter open, and then he’s looking at you - his blue gaze still a bit disoriented, but you feel caught up in his gaze nonetheless.

„Hey“, he says, his voice still a bit sleepy, „sleep well?“

You quickly withdraw your hand, forcing a smile onto your face. „Well, could’ve been better if you hadn’t snored so loudly“, you say, trying to sound nonchalant.

Coriolanus just scoffs. „I do not snore“, he says, indignant.

No, you think, but you still kept me awake all night long, just by having your hand splayed across my stomach, your head resting on my shoulder.

Still, you force yourself to shrug. „Easy for you to say.“

Coriolanus just scoffs again. But even though he’s annoyed by your comment, shooting you another indignant look, you can’t help but think that you want to spend every single morning just like this.

You want to wake up right next to Coriolanus every morning - something you shouldn’t even be thinking about, but something that you still desperately crave nonetheless.

It becomes a habit, then - Coryo sleeping over at your place.

At first, he only does it after one of your study sessions, once or twice a week. But then, it starts happening more and more often - him sleeping over after a movie night (considering that it took you a lot of convincing to get him to finally agree to a movie night, he seems to be enjoying himself quite a lot, cuddling up to you on your living room couch, resting his head on the crook of your neck, sending your heartbeat haywire) or after an evening of cooking together or after a long evening spent together at the Academy’s library, finishing an assignment for Professor Sickle.

At first, you don’t really think anything of it.

But then, one Sunday morning you’re going through your clothes (for once, Coryo didn’t sleep over at your place, because he and Tigris promised the Grandm’am an early breakfast before helping her out with her roses) and suddenly, you realize that there’s a whole stack of Coryo’s clothes in your closet. Dress shirts, plain shirts, pants, even one of his favorite shirts - it’s all here, in your closet.

Without allowing yourself to think too much about it, you grab a simple long-sleeved grey shirt from the stack with Coryo’s clothes and put it on. (It’s oversized, the sleeves way too long, but you don’t care, the shirt is so soft and comfortable. And besides - it still smells like Coryo, like roses and powder and something else, something that’s entirely him.)

After throwing on some simple, comfortable pants as well, you walk over to your bathroom - and startle when you see the box with Coryo’s things on one side of the big, marble sink. A toothbrush, a comb, even a small tube of Tigris’s face cream that he secretly uses - you’re the only one who knows and he’d made you swear not to tell a single living soul that fact.

You smile at the memory, absentmindedly running a hand through your hair and letting your eyes wander through the bathroom.

But everywhere you look, you see Coriolanus. Everything seems to somehow remind you of him.

That towel on the sink, which is lying neatly folded right next to the box with Coryo’s stuff. It’s one of your own towels, nothing special in your opinion - you’ve got lot of other towels and really, a towel is just a towel - but Coryo insists that it’s softer than your other towels and feels better on his skin.

That old butterfly-shaped hairpin of yours, lying abandoned on the windowsill. You only have to look at it to be taken back to Thursday night when you were getting ready for bed, brushing your hair in front of the great mirror over the sink, when suddenly Coryo walked into your bathroom, your old hairpin in hand.

„That’s the hairpin you got for your tenth birthday, isn’t it?“, he asked, smiling to himself.

You nodded. „Yes, I thought about giving it away, maybe gifting it to my little cousin, because I don’t really think that it suits me anymore.“

Coryo’s smile seemed to freeze at your words. „Really? I still think it looks great, look“, he said, drawing you closer with one hand whilst reaching up with his other hand to place to pin in your hair.

„See?“, he said, smiling.

You laughed, shaking your head. „I mean, yes, it’s beautiful, but I’m not ten anymore, Coryo.“

You wanted to put the hairpin away, but Coriolanus insisted on you keeping it just a little longer - maybe you’d change your mind about it.

You reach for that hairpin now, absentmindedly running your fingers over it. Coriolanus is right, the pin is beautiful, even though it looks a bit worn down after years of usage.

You decide to keep the pin, then. Not because you think that you’ll wear it again, but as another reminder of Coryo.

It is in this moment that you realize that your feelings towards your best friend have changed - you no longer view him as just your best friend.

You no longer want him like a best friend.

You don’t want to be just his best friend anymore - you want so much more than that. You want - no need - his attention, want his lingering eyes on you, want his warm, comforting touch before falling asleep, want to wake up next to him, want to feel his lips on yours.

You tighten your grip on the hairpin, until you feel it starting to dig uncomfortably in your skin, but the pain still can’t distract you from your thoughts and the heavy, crushing feeling in your chest.

Because no matter how much you might want to be more than Coryo’s best friend - to him, you’ll never be anything else. He’ll never see you as anything other than his best friend.

It somehow becomes both easier and harder to be around Coryo after your realization.

Easier, because it means that you still get to be around him, get to talk with him, fall asleep with him at your side, ly next to on your bed while he’s motivating you to study.

Harder, because it means that you still get to be around him - all the time. Looking at him, laughing with him, touching him; fantasizing about him in ways that you definitely shouldn’t think about your best friend.

His presence is almost like a drug to you; addicting and intoxicating, leaving you craving more of it, even though you know that it’s not good for you - in the end it’ll be your heart that’ll be broken.

„Something on your mind?“, Coryo’s soft voice draws you out of your thoughts, his hand absentmindedly drawing circles on your back.

It’s already late evening and you’re lying together in your bed - you wearing one of his shirts, which he noticed with a satisfied smirk earlier, over your nightdress.

You shake your head, thankful that Coriolanus can’t see your face, seeing as he’s spooning you from behind. „Not really, no … just all these papers we’ll have to hand in during the next two weeks …“

„Well, if it’s nothing else …“, Coriolanus says, laughing softly, his warm breath tickling against your skin, but something tells you that he doesn’t quite believe your words.

„Nope“, you say, trying to sound nonchalant, before freeing yourself from Coriolanus’s grip, taking off his shirt, so that you’re left in only your lacy, red nightdress.

The distraction works - Coriolanus’s swallows, the expression in his eyes darkening. „Won’t you - uhm, freeze? If you’re only sleeping in that, I mean, it doesn’t look very warm …“, he stutters - actually stutters.

„Freeze?“, you ask, grinning, „with you right next to me?“

Coriolanus just scoffs, rolling his eyes. It’s a discussion you’ve had quite often these last few weeks - with you convinced that his body temperature is too high, and him convinced that yours is running too low.

Though maybe Coryo does have a point and you always feeling so hot when you’re being embraced by him has more to do with your heartbeat quickening and your palms turning sweaty from being so near to him and less with his body temperature.

Suddenly, Coriolanus sits up, leaning in towards you, before closing both his arms around you, caging you in his embrace. Both of his hands are splayed possessively over your stomach, though one feels dangerously close to your chest.

Though - maybe that is just your imagination running wild with you again.

„Warm enough for you?“, Coriolanus asks, resting his head on the crook of your neck, his warm breath tickling your skin.

You laugh, trying not to squirm - you’re insanely ticklish, something Coriolanus very much know. „Yes, Coryo, more than enough …“

„Hm …“, he laughs softly. „Can’t have you freezing now, can I?“, he adds, reaching for your blanket and draping it around you both.

„Hm ...“, you hum, closing your eyes and leaning your head back against his chest. You feel so warm and content, being so close to Coryo. It’s so easy to get lost in your imagination like that, to pretend that you can actually have this with him, to pretend that this is not just your best friend messing around with you - to pretend that he feels the same way you do.

You stay like that for a moment - Coryo holding you in his arms, bodies pressed flush together.

Then, after a while - you can’t tell whether it’s been only a few minutes or a few hours; time always seems to either stop or pass you by in a blur whenever you’re with Coriolanus - he clears his throat, breaking his embrace.

„It’s late, we should probably try to get some sleep …“, he says, trying to suppress a yawn.

You nod, forcing a smile onto your face. „Sure … can’t have your mind in a foggy, exhausted state when you want to make a good impression in Sickle’s class tomorrow morning …“

Coriolanus scoffs, laying down on your bed.

The moment you’ve lain down as well, he scoots closer to you, enclosing you in his arms. Something he does every night when he sleeps over, though your heart still skips a beat at the action.

This is dangerous, you think. You can’t keep thinking about your best friend like that, can’t keep falling and falling for him-

„Good night“, Coriolanus says - and then he does something he’s never done before: he leans in closer towards you, pressing a gentle, soft kiss to your hairline.

Your heartbeat quickens and you can only hope that Coryo won’t be able to pick up on it.

„Good - good night, Coryo“, you say, your voice shaky, barely being able to get the words out.

Coriolanus laughs, before resting his head on the crook of your neck again.

You swallow, trying not to shiver.

This night, it takes you a long time to fall asleep.

When you wake up, Coriolanus has wrapped himself around you, caging you in between his arms, one of his hands splayed possessively across your stomach, his other hand dangerously close to the hem of your admittedly quite short night dress. (You may have decided on deliberately wearing this particular lacy red night dress, seeing as it has made Coriolanus look at you with a dark expression in his eyes when he’d seen you wearing it once before.)

His strong, muscled chest is pressed flush against your back - though that’s not the only thing pressed against your back.

You feel your cheeks heat up when you realize what this means. This has only happened two times before, and both times Coriolanus was quick to embarresedly scoot away from you when he woke up, realizing that his erection had been pressed against your back.

Now, though, Coriolanus seems to be asleep and in no hurry to move away from you. In fact, he suddenly makes a low muffled noise, his grip on you tightening, his hand at the hem of your night dress moving up even higher until you can feel his fingertips brush over the soft skin of your inner thighs.

You can’t help the surprised noise that escapes you then - even though all of this should feel so wrong; it doesn’t.

It doesn’t feel wrong at all. In fact, you want - no, crave even more of this, of you and Coryo pressed so closely together that not even a single leaf could fit between you, Coriolanus’s hands on you, his face pressed into the crook of your neck.

You’re pulled out of your thoughts when Coriolanus suddenly says your name, his lips brushing against your skin, causing you to shiver.

„Cory?“, you ask, trying to turn around, but his grip on you is too tight, keeping you in place.

Then - your name falling from his lips again, followed by a loud, coarse moan.

„Yes, right there - fuck, so good, so good“, Coriolanus moans, one hand suddenly finding its way under the skirt of your night dress, his fingers moving up higher and higher on your thighs, coming dangerously close to the hem of your panties-

„Fuck!“ Another loud moan, followed by Coriolanus’s hips moving against yours, his erection pressing against you.

Oh, you think, cheeks impossibly warm, biting down hard on your lip to keep yourself from making any sound.

Besides your imagination running wild these last few weeks, one dirty fantasy of you and your best friend chasing the other, this has never happened to you. You thought that it never would happen to you - at least not with Coryo.

Though he’s only caught up in a dream of his own, you try to remind yourself, when his hips move against yours again.

It’s only a dream. But why is it your name that he’s moaning then, not any other? But maybe it’s just a coincide-

Every single thought is wiped from your head, when Coriolanus’s fingers brush over your panties, teasing your clit though the thin fabric.

You can’t help the moan that escapes you then - not when this feels so good, Coriolanus’s fingers teasing over your clit, his hips moving against yours, his lips pressed to the skin of your neck, his other hand still splayed across your stomach.

Coriolanus moans your name again then, his fingers cupping your cunt through the thin fabric of your panties, and you find yourself moving your hips against his, driven by pure instinct.

The low, coarse groan that escapes Coriolanus then has you wanting to squeeze your thighs together, but his fingers are still there, still teasing over your clit.

Suddenly, his fingers start to move, drawing teasing circles over your clit, and it’s all too much for you. Overwhelmed by all the different emotions coursing through you, you tear yourself away from his grip, getting up on shaky feet and walking over to the bathroom that’s connected to your bedroom.

Your head is still spinning when you find yourself leaning against the cold, marble walls of the bathroom, your core still aching, yearning for Coriolanus’s touch.

You shiver, even though you feel too hot, your skin feeling like it’s been set on fire. Coriolanus touched you. Your best friend’s fingers were almost inside you and-

Fuck.

Fuck, you’ll never able to look your best friend in the eyes again, even though all you want is to be as close to him as you were moments ago.

Acting on pure instinct, you shimmy out of your nightdress, letting it fall to the floor, before stepping inside the shower. Maybe a good, cold shower, will help, you think, turning on the shower.

You step back, letting the cold water hit your body. But even though the cold water feels like needles prickling against your skin, you still feel as if your entire body was set on fire, your core still aching and empty.

Almost on their own accord, your fingers find their way to your clit. You bite down hard on your lip, trying to blink back the tears in your eyes that are suddenly threatening to spill.

Still, you can’t help the low moan that escapes you when your fingers find their way between your folds.

You close your eyes, letting your head fall back - letting pure instinct take over, as you fuck yourself on your fingers, wishing that it were Coryo’s fingers filling you up instead.

When you come, it’s with a desperate, breathless cry and images of Coriolanus pressed against you playing over and over again in your mind.

What you don’t know, though, is that Coriolanus has been awake all this time - every single touch was a deliberate, strategic move on his part and you’d reacted even better than he could have imagined. He followed you to the bathroom when you got up from bed, and now he’s watching you come undone from his position behind the door that you forgot to properly lock in your haste.

He feels like he’s going crazy, crawling out of his skin as he watches you screw your eyes shut, throwing your head back. Your breathless whimpers and moans are all that he can hear, echoing through his mind.

Wracked with shame, guilt and desire coursing through him, he shoves one hand into his pants, his eyes still fixated on you.

It only takes a few strokes over his already achingly hard length until he comes undone as well.

And when he unravels, it is with your breathless moans echoing through his mind, his eyes on you, and your name like a bittersweet, deadly poison that he just can’t get enough of on his lips.

sooo ...? please, please lmk what you think, I'm so excited to hear your thoughts!

taglist:

@asapkyndall @slitsphilia @ravenclawprincess33 @mckennah123 @serving-targaryen-realness @mentallyyy-unstable @mizuki80 @snows-wife @prettyinsatiable @ashcosmo @generally-awqward @snowflxke @nallasstuff @ajs-222 @spiritofbuddha @notyourwildestdream @earthangel-111 @bhdem @toogardenheart @iheartinkonpaper @daisiesformylove @ebsmind @dominqueeekk @cherrybomb8484 @dangelnleif @minmin1328 @scarletttargaryen

tumblr won’t let me tag some of you guys, please check your settings (settings —> general —> mentions —> anyone) whether anyone can tag you in posts! :)

comment if you want to be added to the taglist!

#coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus smut #coriolanus x you #coriolanus imagine #coriolanus x y/n #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow x you #coryo snow x reader #tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #thg #tbosas #x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #don't want you like a best friend #maysileeewrites

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dejwrld · 4 months

Text

summary — the story of how international rockstar & the international pop star met at gojo satoru's party

warning readers discretion is advised ⸻accumulated word count of 4.9k, female reader, rockstar!choso, popstar!reader, famous jjk au, told in third pov (choso pov), mentions of gojo being an actor, alcohol consumption, profanity, mentions of yuji, kechizu, & eso, kechizu and eso are described as humans, mentions of choso winning a grammy, mentions of grandpa itadori owning a onigiri shop, setting: tokyo, japan, thigh fucking, do not do the do in your grandpa’s onigiri shop, minors do not interact!

sticky note from deja — somebody asked how choso and reader would have met. so i am here to write that! i accidentally deleted the ask lmfao. so here is something quick, that turned into something long. this fic is a standalone from my previous choso fic, it takes place before that fic though | divider credit @/v6que

Choso wasn’t the biggest fan of parties when he had just gotten off tour three days ago and wanted to spend his one-month hiatus disconnecting from practically everything and everyone. He knew as soon as the month ended, it would be crunch time to prepare for his next album—plus being a judge on this music competition show. He wanted to prepare himself mentally and spend time with his brothers. But here he was wall hugging with a drink at one of Gojo Satoru’s parties. The insane thing about this party is that it was at Satoru’s place; he oddly trusted every celebrity that littered his place to be comfortable with it. Choso’s anxiety would go through the roof at the thought of someone possibly spilling wine on his couch, but this was Gojo Satoru. If he needed an interior designer to redecorate his place in four days—he’d do it.

“You’ll never guess who just messaged me saying they’re coming through because they’re in Japan for two weeks.” Satoru’s voice shrieked over the music. He waved his phone in Choso’s face so aggressively that Choso couldn’t see what he was showing him.

“The Y/N L/N.” He said. “The three-time Grammy award-winning one!”

“I’m a Grammy winner.” Choso joked, sipping from his cup, and Satoru’s crystal blue eyes stared at the raven-haired male as if he’d grown an extra arm.

“But you aren’t a three-time Grammy award winner, and I know you, Choso. We all know each other.” He corrects as he eyes his best friend, Geto Suguru, playing pool with movie director Nanami Kento. “So, if you see her. Don’t be weird. You tend to be weird around beautiful women.”

Choso’s lips parted to argue, but Gojo just shook his head, not wanting to hear whatever excuse would come out of the rockstar’s mouth before eventually going to tend to his other guests. Choso took that mental note to avoid the woman altogether. He had heard about her. If you didn’t, you had to live under the ground because everyone knew her. Even here in Japan, she had a solid fanbase. She was Pop’s current it girl, and Choso highly doubted she was going anywhere at the time, especially considering that her latest single was Number 1.

As Choso stepped outside on the balcony of Satoru’s luxury penthouse, the sound of the music blasting was left behind as he glanced out at the skyline of downtown Tokyo. His mind attempted to find peace until a voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Crap, someone found my hiding place.”

When Choso glanced over, he saw her. The one that Gojo was raving about her arrival. He straightened himself up, immediately remembering Satoru’s words. He was in front of a rising music legend at the moment. The talk of Japan since the news dropped that she was coming here.

“You do know the party host is currently anticipating your arrival?” He closed the gap between them as she stepped closer so she could hear him a bit better.

“I mean, yeah. But I just wanted to enjoy the alone time before I’m bombarded with the sea of taking selfies with so many people,” She responds with a chuckle. “I stole this bottle of champagne from his bar, though. I hope he doesn't mind.” She sips from the bottle before placing it down.

“You’re hiding from the party, huh? Didn’t think a rockstar wouldn’t be the life of a party right before him.”

Choso’s cheeks heated at her words. One.) Her eyes scanned him as if she was checking him out. Two.) He realized that she may have known who he was.

“I get one month off after a worldwide tour. I kinda didn’t want to use this night partying with people who only hit me up when they want me on the guest lists of their party,” He responds.

“So, what would you do?” The popstar asks.

“Probably hang out with my brothers. It’s been months since I saw them in person.” Choso comments with a sigh. “We have so much catching up to do,”

“Then let’s go,” She responds as she turns around to grab her miniature purse that Choso was sure could only fit about three things at most.

“Huh?” He questions. “Did you not hear me say that the party's host is waiting for you,” He repeats.

“I did, and I want to go with you to hang with your brothers,” She sighs. “I’ve been going to parties since I arrived here in Japan. Missing one won’t hurt,” She pushes the oversized shades on her face with a smile, and Choso felt his cock & heart flutter. “I haven’t been able to enjoy Japan, so why not enjoy it with a rockstar instead.”

Choso chuckles before he nods in agreement. “Well, how do you feel about motorcycles?” He asks. He rocks back and forth on his heels before giving the woman a grin as she is thinking.

“My manager would oppose me getting on one, but my manager isn’t here.” She points out. “So, what the hell.” She throws her hands up. “But we also have another problem.” She peeks over the balcony, and despite being many floors up from the ground, she can still see the flashing of paparazzi cameras.

“Oh, I came in through the backway. I’ve been to Satoru’s penthouse parties many times and learned the many exits and entrances. Don’t worry; your fans won’t get any photos of you leaving a party with some sleazy rock slash alternative musician.” He grins at her and decides to enter the place, fully not expecting her to follow behind him.

Choso can only imagine the photos if they were caught together. They probably would think he was corrupting her, or she was in her bad girl phase. Either way, he didn’t mind. But he hated people in his business, and being seen with her meant people would be in his business. It’s a reason why he’s paying off restitution to a paparazzi guy. The guy was in his business, and Choso may have broken his camera.

“Wait up! I’m coming!” Her voice screams over the music as she catches up to Choso to grab upon the black leather jacket he wore.

Just like that, the international rock and pop stars quickly left Gojo Satoru’s party. Choso had taken the elevator to the second floor, Y/N not far behind him as she was more aware of her surroundings than he was. Then, they used the emergency fire exit to exit the building. There, Choso’s BMW R18 motorcycle was where he left it. He picked up the spare helmet and gave it to Y/N.

“Just hold on to me. I promise I won’t hurt the world’s favorite pop princess.” He pulled the helmet over his face as she giggled at his comment.

“I hope not because my fans would want your head on a pike.” She smirked as she got on the motorcycle right after him. Instantly, Y/N’s arms are snaking around his waist.

“Well, good thing I also have insane fans.” Choso backfires before turning on the motorcycle, the engine roaring out Y/N’s snarky comment in response.

Choso knew that his brothers probably were at Yuji’s grandfather's onigiri shop because on Fridays, it’s busier than usual, and the old man was too stubborn to hire anybody else when he had (and Choso quote) ‘strong grandsons to help an old man out.’ Choso did not pay for the ten-year-old shop renovations for him having to come back from tour to throw on an apron and go home smelling like seawood and rice. But it was pretty late; the shop was probably closed, and his siblings were circled around a table eating what hadn’t been sold. Yuji would blabber on about his senior year and exams. Because of his dance classes, Eso would most definitely have his leg prompted up on a chair with bags of ice on it. In contrast, Kechizu head would be into his Steam deck console to even care about Yuji swiping fish cakes off his plate. He knew his brothers like he knew the lyrics he wrote; they were imprinted in his brain because they were all he had if fame, money, and luxury were taken away.

When he parked the motorcycle, he helped Y/N off it and removed the helmet. “I hope you like Onigiri.” He says.

“Well, I only tried it once from a convenience store.” Her fingers combed through her braids that traveled down her back before smoothing out the black jumpsuit she wore.

“I promise these are better.” He held the door open for her, and as he had expected, the place was closing. Chairs were placed on most tables except for the one his brothers occupied.

All of them had different dads; it was a frequent talking point in Choso's interviews with magazines, radio stations, and so on. Yes, the world knew their mother, who wasn’t the best mom—slept around. It wasn’t a secret; maybe it did help some bloggers throw jabs at him. However, Choso wasn’t ashamed of where he came from and how he was raised. Regardless if all his brothers looked differently, they were still his brothers. So what if Yuji resembled his father with his pastel pink-shaded hair and bright eyes? Or Eso, who was the tallest despite being the middle child and he had a passion for ballet dancing. Then Kechizu, who people assume was the youngest, was as quiet as can be—very observant but knew every fuckin’ fact about some retro video game. They all acted so differently—looked so differently, but they were still so close as if they were raised in the same household.

“Holy shit!” Yuji exclaimed as his eyes beamed at the door when he saw Choso and Y/N walk in. “Holy shit!” He repeated.

“Language,” Choso exclaimed as he stepped forward to ruffle Kechizu’s green-colored hair. The second youngest child swatted his brother’s hand as he tried to continue to play Fortnite. “Do we have room to add another to the table?”

“Of course, the Y/N L/N is in my presence. Todo is going to freak out when I tell him.” Yuji squeals as he moves his chair over for Choso to add a chair in between him and Yuji for the pop star.

Y/N gives them a smile that Choso has seen her give to many people—interviewers, musicians, her fans. She took the seat in between Yuji and himself, and Choso couldn’t help but to slap the back of his younger brother's head as the pastel pink-haired teenager leaned back to take a peek at Y/N’s while she sat down.

“So are you two like-”

“It’s none of your business,” Choso interjected as he glared at Yuji because he just had to be the curious cat within the brothers.

The group continued to eat, with small conversations about things from the tour to Y/N’s music. Even though she had just met his brothers, she fit in perfectly with them. Granted, he didn’t like that she did about five math problems for Itadaori. The way she made the room feel much brighter made Choso’s cheeks heat as he observed the room. Now she was talking about dance with Eso, completely lost in the topic as they gushed about the first dance classes they took.

“I was eight when I took my first dance class. It was ballet; I practically had two left feet.” She chuckles after taking a bite of the onigiri. “You have wonderful legs, Eso, so I know you’re a killer dancer.” She compliments him.

Her glossed lips formed a straight line as she thought about something, “You know, I have a show at this festival before I go home. If you don’t have any plans, I’m down a dancer for my team. I know it’s short notice, but some pretty important people will be in the crowd…” Her voice trails off as a smile appears on Eso’s face. “Only if you’re down. Don’t feel pressured because it’s me.”

“I would be honored. Send me where you guys rehearse, and I’ll be there.” Eso smiles at her as they exchange phone numbers and socials.

“Well, since you’re giving out opportunities. Can you set me up to meet a couple of people?” Yuji opened the notes app on his phone with his list. “Jennifer Lawrence, Tom Holland, maybe Megan thee Stallion too.”

“You have a rockstar older brother. Why can’t you ask him?” Y/N questioned as her eyes playfully glared at Yuji.

“He said, and I quote…I refuse for you to embarrass me.” Yuji mocked Choso’s tone and was met with a chopstick thrown at him.

Just as Choso was about to interject, Wasuke Itadori came from behind, questioning who would close up. Silence overcame the group, and Yuji even slumped lower in his seat to prevent himself from being chosen. He had closed the shop for three days straight because his brothers were ever so busy with their lives.

“Choso, since you have a guest…you guys will close up.” Wasuke tugged on his jacket just as Yuji and the others collected their things to leave. “Before you lie and say you have some band thing, I know you’re off tour and on vacation.”

“Shit,” Choso uttered as he stood to collect the shop’s keys from the older guy. “We’ll clean up and lock up the shop. Don’t need to worry.”

“Good, and don’t keep your lady friend out so late. That’s not very gentlemanly. But what can I say? Chivalry is dead when it comes to your bunch.” He gives Y/N a wink as he leads the others out of the shop, leaving the two musicians all alone.

“You have a unique family.” Y/N stands.

“You don’t have to stay to help me close up? Like he said, I don’t want to keep you out so late.” Choso tears his leather jacket off and tosses it on one of the chairs.

He sported a black t-shirt that reasonably fitted him. His biceps bulged just a bit with each flex of him picking up dishes to clean them in the kitchen. Even Y/N couldn’t help but stare as he moved around the eating area.

“I don’t mind helping, plus you’re kinda my ride back to where I’m staying.” She collected the other dishes and followed Choso into the kitchen.

“Well, let’s hurry because I don’t want to have you out too late. You probably have something to do in the morning.”

“Just rehearsal that starts at noon.”

“I remember those days. Gosh, so glad the tour is over with.” He emptied the plates and put the dishes in the sink.

“How was the tour for you? From the looks of social media, it seemed like it wasn’t a dull moment,” She points out as she rolls her sleeves up. She took the place next to Choso with a cloth to dry the dishes that Choso was washing.

“Fun. Sometimes, I love being on the road, but I like being around my family more. I get homesick like shit when I’m touring. But when I go out and perform—do what I love to do, and it reminds me why I do it.” Choso explains while passing a dish to Y/N to dry. “It feels like just yesterday I was singing in bars in Roppongi district.”

When he turned his head, he was met with her gaze. His whole body betrayed him because he immediately felt the heat in his cheeks. When Choso blushed, it was as noticeable as can be. His cheeks turned an embarrassing shade of red that took minutes to go away.

“I’m sure your brothers are very proud of you.” She smiles and places another plate to the side.

“What about you? It’s your first time performing here?” He asked.

“Yeah, I’m nervous. But it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

He hummed at her words before the two returned to washing the dishes. Their arms briefly bump into each other, and they find themselves uttering apologies for something so subtle.

“So, I’m curious to ask. Since other than the news of you performing at this music festival this week. Are you still dating that guy? That actor…” His voice trails off, wondering if that was an intrusive question.

“Why’d you ask? For yourself or your little actor friend Satoru?” Her elbow nudges against his side after she puts another dried plate to the side.

Choso was quiet for a second. When he talked to Gojo earlier, the actor didn’t seem interested in the popstar—but it was Gojo. He had his way of trying to get with someone that left many (including Gojo) confused. Choso wouldn’t deny that Y/N was attractive, but he knew she had heard it from many guys. Perhaps she didn’t want someone to view her in a lens that she’s used to the whole world viewing her as. The sultry, sexy popstar whose Playboy photoshoot went viral on every social media platform down to fuckin’ Reddit.

“Who knows with Satoru? His publicist ensures his love life is on lock. But for me, I don’t know either.” He foolishly admits. He grabbed a hand towel, dried his hands with it, and turned to face the hideous cat clock that was ticking with each second.

“You don’t know?” She asked; she stepped in front of him, blocking his view of the clock—but of course, Choso didn’t mind.

Choso sighs and tosses the cloth to the side, “If I admit it, I’ll feel like I’m viewing you in the same lens that every other guy views you as. The sexy pop star who caused a guy to faint when he met you,” Choso chuckles. “Just forget I asked..”

“Hm, you view me as something other than a sexy pop star.” She stepped forward, and Choso could get a whiff of warm vanilla-scented perfume. Her eyes glanced up at him through her lashes, and again, she saw the faint red color stain Choso’s cheeks.

“From this conversation and you ditching a party despite being the main reason everyone came, I can tell that you want to be viewed through a lens other than the sexy popstar,” Choso admits. “And I think that’s why you decided to come with me. You knew I would be able to view you in said lens without trying.”

He couldn’t read her expression, but he could tell just by her taking a step forward, suffocating his personal space, that he was correct. He bites at his lower lip before speaking again, stepping forward also. “If I’m right, selfishly enough—I’ll make you mine right now.”

“Quite bold of you to say Mr. Rockstar because if I remember correctly, in your GQ interview, you don’t do relationships because you hate people being in your business. The world’s most popular rockstar slash alternative musician and the pop’s current it girl being together…everyone will be in our business.”

“Fair point, but I guess that’s a risk I’ll take and many NDAs to give out.”

Choso was always a man to make the first move, but here, the popstar was leaping forward to kiss him. Gosh, he let her. If he could, he’ll let her use him as she pleases. His hand guided her to the top of the counter as he kissed her deeply. Her fingers combed through his dark locks of hair, tugging gently for a response just to slip her tongue into his mouth. She tasted so good. It's like the best bottle of champagne that someone can offer. A moan vibrates from the back of Choso’s throat as the two make out. Tongues taste each other like the last meal you two can have.

When they broke apart, Choso cupped Y/N’s face. His thumb drags alongside the soft flesh of her cheeks. “I don’t think we should take this any further in his fuckin’ onigiri shop—but fuck.” He sighs. “I don’t think I can make it to my place.” His eyes averted behind Y/N at the employee bathroom.

It was hardly used, considering that Wasuke practically ran the shop himself. Usually, it is only used when one of the brothers stops by.

“You can’t be that horny not to wait.” Y/N laughs before she feels Choso collect her hand and press it against his crotch. Her eyes enlarged at what she was feeling.

“Look what you’ve done to me; I can’t wait.” His head fell upon her shoulders, and his words were a stubborn whine.

Y/N pushes him back from in between the space of her thighs, and she hops off the counter and walking towards the bathroom. Like a dog receiving a treat, Choso follows behind Y/N in the bathroom. When the two were in the enclosed space, he turned her around so that she was facing the sink. His hands unzipped the front of her jumpsuit while his lips ghosted over her brown skin. He was nipping at spots on her neck like a hormonal college student.

“If I knew that I was going to be receiving dick from the Choso Kamo, I would have worn something much easier to work around.” She helps him pull the upper part of the jumpsuit down.

Her breast broke out the tight spandex material as soon as it came down, and Choso felt him grow even harder—aching, entirely for her. His hands snaked around the front of her waist to feel inside her nude, seamless panties.

If Choso concentrated hard enough, he could feel his precum stain his bottoms at the feel of how wet she was. His index and middle fingers that strummed countless guitars and rubbed slow circles on her clit. With the mirror that was above the sink, he was able to see her come undone. It was similar to pulling at a loose piece of thread on a piece of clothing and watching it unravel with each pull. Y/N melted in front of him. Her plump lips gasped apart to let out a sweet tune: her moans. With each motion of his million-dollar fingers, she moans louder—this time gasping out his name like a lyric in one of the love songs she’s written.

Before Choso wanted to quicken his teasing, he unbuckled his belt quickly. The sound was like music to Y/N’s ears because she attempted to step out of her jumpsuit, but Choso stopped her with a brief slap on her ass. It took her by shock, but she felt herself grow wet at the feeling of the sting going away.

“Who said you were getting my dick tonight?” He asks as he pushes the jumpsuit down.

“I’m the world’s biggest pop star now, I think I deserve it.” Y/N points out as Choso nips at the tip of her ear.

“And I’m the world’s biggest rockstar, with the current #1 album on the charts. So I think I outrank you at the moment.” He smirks as he’s pulling his boxers down just a bit for his cock to spring out beautifully.

“My tour grossed the highest,” She proudly bragged.

“In your dreams, pop star.” Choso's fingers hook the band of her panties, sliding them down—his hand palms at the fatness of her ass.

Choso could give her what she wanted. Stuff her full with his cock, but she’s been given what she wanted ever since she established herself as this star.

“So, you’re just going to edge the world's most popular pop star on like this?” She questions; a teasing tone drops from her tongue, and her eyes stare at him through the mirror.

“Something like that,” Choso brought his hand up to his mouth, gawking up a fair amount of spit to coat his cock in, and his lips curved into a devious smirk seeing Y/N eagerly wiggle herself further on him. His hardened cock poked her, but the musician had other plans.

Instead of helping slide into Y/N’s cunt, his cock wedged in between her thighs—right above the little bit of space of her panties being pulled down. Which was as lewd as can be simply by if Choso would come, his cum not only splattered upon her thighs but decorated her panties also. With the first rock of his hips, while his cock was between her thighs, the tip of it brushed against Y/N’s folds causing her to moan. The traction causes an incoherent hiss to pass by Choso’s lips as he’s rocking his cock in between her thighs.

“Fuck.” He uttered, realizing that if just thigh fucking Y/N was causing his brain to feel fuzzy like it did when he smoked weed for the first time—how the hell was he going to feel when he finally got the opportunity to be inside her. His fingers dug into the flesh of her waist as he’s thrusting his cock inward and outward of her thighs. Each movement caused her breasts to jiggle salaciously, and that seemed to add to the list of little things that turned him in while being crammed in this bathroom with her.

“This isn’t fair,” Y/N shutters over the lewd sound of Choso’s cock thrusting between her thighs.

Even though she would complain about how he was only getting off at this. That her clit was throbbing and aching for attention as Choso’s cock was between her thighs. He didn’t even acknowledge her response but instead used his feet to kick at her own to bring her thighs together just a bit more. Even brought his cock up a little bit more—finally giving the woman what she wanted. His cock was just inches away from rubbing against her folds that were decorated with her slit—occasionally, the tip of his fat cock bribes against them before he guided it back to its rightful place.

“Fuck,” Choso uttered, bringing her closer, her back now placed upon his broad chest as his hips bulldozed his cock forward.

He was trying too hard to imagine that this is what her pussy would feel like. That the fiery pit that grew at an increasing rate in his ball sack was a feeling you’ll get immediately when you indulge in her cunt. A couple more pumps of his cock in between her thighs, Choso’s cum squirts out the tip of his cock. To add to the mess he made in between her thighs, he’s pumping his cock some more sloppily. His thick ropes of cum decorated her thighs and her underwear, and Choso finally went limp as his face was red like a tomato, and his cock was a sticky mess. He just thigh fucked the world’s most famous pop star at the moment in the bathroom of his brother’s grandfather's Onigiri shop.

He reaches behind him at the paper towel dispenser to help clean her up. Silence overcame the two before Choso tossed the dirty paper towels in the trash. His face was heated from the interactions, and that tint of red still decorated his face shamelessly. His hair fell in his face, and some strands stuck to his forehead due to the sweat on it. He pulled his boxers and pants back up, buckling them immediately.

As the two shameless musicians were awkwardly cleaning themselves up, Choso, being the gentlemen, used a wet paper towel to wipe off Y/N’s thighs, and his phone that was shoved in his back pocket rang. He ignored it as he figured it’d be Yuji urging him to grab something he forgot in the shop. Or Gojo asking him where he ran off to. But instead, his manager was spam-calling him each time he didn’t answer the phone.

“You should answer that; it could be an emergency.” Y/N points out while fixing her clothes. She knew that as soon as she stepped foot in the apartment she was renting out, she would take the longest shower. Even so, she adored the scent of Choso imprinting her skin.

“You really can’t transition off a tour without a scandal. What the hell happened to you were going to spend time with your brothers and lay low.” His manager’s voice yells through the phone, causing him to pull the device away from his ear.

“I don’t know what the hell you're talking about.”

“Answer me this, Choso. Are you with Y/N L/N right now?”

Choso’s eyes look at Y/N, who is applying a coat of clear lip gloss. Her body is leaning slightly to be closer to the mirror above the sink.

“Maybe…” Choso’s voice trails off, expecting the worst.

“Well, the world knows you’re with her right now. I sent your bodyguard and a private car to come pick you guys up immediately. They’re probably already surrounding that freakin’ onigiri shop.”

Choso didn’t let his manager talk his head off any second longer as he ended the call to force a smile on his face that Y/N knew something was wrong. She’s seen the fake smiles from many people that she has lost count. Something happened.

“Well, my little popstar. I think our careers are about to take a turn.”

#choso kamo smut #choso smut #choso kamo x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #anime smut #choso fanfic #black reader #female reader #jjk x black reader #angelshubnetwork #⊹˳⁺ ♡ 𝒻𝒶𝓃𝒻𝒾𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝒸𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈

579 notes · View notes

christinesficrecs · 5 months

Text

I had a request for newer fics, so here you go! Also, some other recent fics were posted here.

They’re all together ooky, the Hale family… (Snap, Snap) by DropsOfAddiction | 12.4K | Explicit

Derek realises that he’s probably squashing Stiles a little bit, right at the same moment that Stiles apparently realises that he’s still holding onto Derek’s face.

They both definitely acknowledge Derek’s nakedness at the same exact time, judging by the alarmed look on Stiles’ face.

“So, you have no clothes on,” Stiles removes his hands and holds them above his head in surrender, cheeks a muddy red.

“In my defence, I was covered in fur less than two minutes ago,” Derek rolls his eyes and he pushes himself up and off him, hands covering his junk for Stiles’ sake.

“You’re still kind of furry now…” Stiles sits up, blinking rapidly, clearly just as weirded out as Derek. “Oh my god, pretend I didn’t say that. I’m not looking or anything.”

Derek smirks, because that… that was a lie and he cocks an eyebrow at him.

as dear as a brother by endversed | 10.3K | Explicit

“You are not allowed to sleep with him,” Scott says.

“You’re not the boss of me,” Stiles scoffs.

Stiles and Scott become best friends at college. Derek is Scott's hot older brother.

Take Me Away From Here by Hedwig221b | 33.5K | Explicit

Derek Hale looked terrifying. With his broad frame and muscles, with his wild black hair and thick beard, with his eyes the color of blood and fangs of a killer. Despite his kindness and his apparent attraction to Stiles, he was still a stranger, a predator, a wolf.

The thing is, Stiles would deal, but others might not. People found Lord Hale horrid, monstrous and unapproachable.

If Stiles stood behind him, no one would touch him.

He’d be safe with the wolf. If not from him, then definitely from everyone else. And that was enough.

Messily Ever After by KaliopeShipsIt | 20.3K

When Stiles and his blue slushie have a literal and quite splashy run-in with an adorable five-year old flower girl and her panicking daddy in the middle of the mall, the last thing he expects is to get a date to a stranger's wedding out of it.

Let alone, a boyfriend and a kid.

His Accidental Touch by Hidden_Orchard | 12.8K | Explicit

It happened accidentally, the first time. All the many and varied times afterwards, Stiles would hold his hands up and admit full responsibility for. But that first time – pure chance.

Derek needs a cuddle. Stiles - generous man that he is - would never deny Derek something he needs.

An Alpha's Misunderstandings by Dexterous_Sinistrous | 48.5K | Mature

And Derek was there, as if it was a simple twist of fate.

There were so many ways Stiles wanted to forgive Derek, but then he came to his senses.

He wouldn’t risk Charlotte’s safety for that hope–never again. ~*~ Stiles and Derek are parted by war and misunderstandings, only to find each other again.

Red, Red, Red by loserchildhotpants | 9.4K | Explicit

“Just… it’s weird, I’ve been - uh. You ever, like, dream of something? Something you’ve never seen before, but then you see it out in the world?”

everywhere, everything (every day) by nerdy-stilinski (Captain_Ameriyeah), S3anchaidh | 14.3K

Derek’s never been the best at making decisions. That’s how he keeps waking up with Stiles in his arms, but never under the right circumstances.

Or: Derek agrees to a pack vacation and instantly regrets it.

Matchmaking in Fandom by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella) | 13K

It wasn’t like it was a secret that the showrunners made terrible decisions when it came to their own show, so why he’d had actual faith in them not fucking the movie up, he had no idea. Really, it was his own fault.

He hadn’t even set the bar high for the movie! The bar was so incredibly low, like mid-shin height, and they somehow managed to get it subterranean. That was talent. A bad talent, but still a talent.

if i'm not made for you, then why does my heart tell me that i am? by EvanesDust | 13K

When Derek’s kids write out their Christmas lists, they insist he writes one too. Not long after it's deposited in Santa's mailbox, he's reunited with the man of his dreams.

Stiles.

Derek can't help but fall for him again. It's really too bad Stiles is so obviously taken.

...or the one where Derek’s a grump who makes assumptions about his pregnant omega neighbor.

#sterek #sterek fics #ficrecs #fic rec friday

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clockwayswrites · 3 months

Text

Danny/Wally, blue, mint

@Luckeykasper

WC: 547

Depending on who and when you asked someone, the Speed Force and Clockwork could be many things to each other: friends, enemies, lovers, brothers, each other, or the very same person. They were both, after all, masters of Time and that had to bring some sort of a connection. On the other hand, they both handled Time very differently from each other which more often brought conflict. Throughout all of their different labels and ever shifting moods one thing was true: the Speed Force and Clockwork were gossiping old biddies about everything and everyone that ever was or would be.

(And, if occasionally, they came together in way that no mortal mind could ever comprehend, well, then that was their business and no one else’s.)

The gossiping old biddies part is what was important in that moment. Not to most people, of course. Most people didn’t have the constitution to be aware of temporal fluctuations, and, even if they had, the current wibbliness of time really only mattered to two people: one Wally West and one Daniel Fenton. Or by other names which might matter more at the moment: Kid Flash and Phantom, the Speed Force’s chosen and Clockwork’s cog, and, most importantly, beloved pseudo-grandsons.

It’s just, the Speed Force sighed, or came as close as a cosmic entity could manage to a sigh, Wally keeps falling instantly for people that he knows are unattainable.

They sounded young right then, like a dramatic teen, and Clockwork unconsciously shifted his form to match. “If they’re unattainable, why does he fall for them?”

Because they’re unattainable. I think he’s afraid to fall for someone he could have because… because of me.

Clockwork snorted. “Isn’t that a bit egotistical?”

The space around them sparked with static. No!

“Really?”

Really! He’s afraid because of what I’ve given him! He’s not simple a person anymore— he’s a cosmic force! The static faded to a sad sputtering and then stopped. All of existence seemed to drag around them. And how often is he going to run into someone who handle that? He’s afraid of trying, my poor boy…

Clockwork nodded in commiseration. His form aged and shifted until he floated hunched over himself. “I see. Danny has become like that as his power has grown. He has pulled away from the living and dead a like. I have concerns about his bonds if it continues.”

The Speed Force jolted, reality spinning in a sudden whirl. That’s it!

“Stop that,” Clockwork ordered, wrenching things back into control with a firm hand. “What are you on about? What silly idea do you have now?”

Danny is cosmic.

“Yes,” Clockwork agreed dryly.

Wally needs someone who understands cosmic! Danny needs someone who has strong ties to the world! Wally’s whole self is saving the world. It’s perfect.

Clockwork actually took a moment to consider the thought.

You know I’m right.

“You’re never right.”

Bitch.

“But,” Clockwork said slowly. The Speed Force buzzed in anticipation. “This might at least be worth a try.”

I told you!

“They can’t suspect it’s a set up though,” Clockwork admonished quickly.

Of course not, too damn stubborn. But… it wouldn’t be too hard to make their paths cross, now would it?

“No,” Clockwork grinned. “No I don’t think that it would.”

---

AN: Okay, so we didn't actually get to Danny/Wally but this idea got in my head and lol. Idk maybe I'll continue this one at some point down the road!

#dp x dc #quick death ship #kinda #also implied speed force/clockwork because what is my life #prompalomp

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allyeardepression · 17 days

Text

@jegulus-microfic | april 18 sock | words: 585

tw: slight nfsw, walking in on someone, swearing

“Stop leaving your socks all over the place!” Sirius heard from the first floor.

“Stop being a dick; they’re on my side of the room!”

“Oh, trust me, I can be worse!” And then there was a loud thud, probably Regulus throwing something at James to prove that he could indeed be worse.

Sirius sighed, taking a sip of his coffee. It had been like that since the beginning of the holidays, because everyone forgot to rent a place with six rooms instead of five, so that James and Regulus could sleep separately. When the two of them found out, they reacted in two different ways: James didn’t mind (It’s not like we’ll be spending a lot of time here); Regulus, on the other hand, threw a tantrum like a five-year-old (I can’t share a bed with this asshole for the next six weeks). Unfortunately, there was no other way, since neither of them would sacrifice a comfortable bed to sleep on a couch in the living room. So for the past two weeks, all ten of them were doomed to listen to the senseless arguments the two others provided.

They were all getting tired of it—they came to Italy to rest, not to feel like children while their parents were getting divorced.

“I swear to god, if they don’t stop until tomorrow, at least one of them won’t come back to London,” Barty grumbled, handing a cup of orange juice to each one of his boyfriends. The girls hummed in agreement.

They sat at the big table in the kitchen, having breakfast. Dorcas and Marlene listed all the places they could go to today, while Lily and Pandora were serving more pancakes and scrambled eggs.

“I think the gallery and chapel sound the best,” commented Mary, throwing a grape at Peter, which he caught with his teeth.

After that, they sat in a comfortable silence, chewing on their respective meals.

The silence was almost… too comfortable.

“Do you think they killed each other?” Sirius asked, breaking the moment of peace.

“Who cares? At least they’re quiet,” Evan replied, shoving another forkful of eggs into his mouth.

Sirius turned to Remus, starting a silent conversation. After a few seconds, his boyfriend nodded and stood up, with Sirius following suit. They went upstairs, stopping in front of blue door. From behind them came quiet gasps and muffled words neither of them could understand.

The black-haired man knocked at the door gently. “Reggie? Prongs? Are you guys okay?” When, after nearly a minute, there was still no answer, he decided to enter the room.

“Guys, are you—what the fuck?” He was expecting everything: blood all over the place, black eyes, broken bones, shattered windows—everything except James holding one hand on Regulus’ throat, the other on his dick, his own probably inside Sirius' little brother.

All four of them froze, staring at each other with wide eyes, until the youngest finally grabbed the blanket laid in front of him, covering himself and James.

“Why the fuck would you come in without being allowed?” Regulus hissed.

“We thought you were dead,” Sirius answered, unnaturally calm. “I just wanted to check if you were alright.”

“Well, you know now, so get out,” the younger Black replied, making a dismissive gesture with his free hand. Sirius didn’t need much convincing to do so.

When Remus closed the door behind them, the shorter man turned to him.

“You know Moony,” he said, staring blankly. “I think I need to bleach my brain.”

#jegulus #dead gay wizards #starchaser #james potter #james x regulus #regulus black #jegulus microfic #the marauders #marauders #modern au #wolfstar #dorlene #marypandalily #partyvan #forced proximity #holiday #by: allyeardepression #500 words or more

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asonofpeter · 8 months

Text

Rebuild

Pairing: Jaime Reyes x F!Reader

Summary: Everything falls into shambles as Kord tries to get the scarab from Jaime. When will it be time to rebuild?

Warnings: mentions of death and depictions of violence, SPOILERS FOR BLUE BEETLE!

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: Part 3? Yes it is! I saw Blue Beetle for the second time yesterday with my parents and they liked it! My brother saw it with his gf and he related so that's a win in my book! Also got more inspo for this part so I hope you enjoy! 💕💕💕

I don't consent to my work being copied, reposted, or translated.

“There’s a way to get it out,” Rudy said and your ears perked in anticipation but his next words made your blood rush cold. “You’d have to be dead though”.

“What? What do you mean?” Jaime shook his head, fear casting over his gaze.

“Look, chamaco, the scarab is fusing to every cell in your body,” he pointed at the monitor and you watched as it practically covered everything in sight.

What happened before is happening to your Jaime.

You pressed your mouth into your palm, trying to contemplate it all. You stayed silent, not wanting to incite a reaction from your boyfriend just as he was already having a meltdown.

“This isn’t fair! Why does this always happen to us? I just wanted to get a job!” he exclaimed sorrowfully. “This wasn’t supposed to be my future,” he exhaled, glancing at you briefly.

It was brief but you knew all of his concerns at that moment.

Were you going to be able to be together? Did you want to love an android alien? Even if you did, are you able to? What if you wanted kids? Was he going to be able to give you that future without fucking it up? What about everything that comes before and after? What now?

He stormed off after yelling at Rudy, saying he needed to go on a walk. Wanting to chase after him, you ignored that feeling, knowing this conversation was one he needed to hear from his uncle.

Giving it a brief moment, you went upstairs, Jenny following you as you knew where he went.

“Do you hear that?” Jenny stopped you as you made the stairs to the roof.

You furrowed your brows, glancing up and hearing a low rumble. Making it onto the roof, you saw the purple lights signaling a Kord helicopter.

“They’re going home,” Jaime realized. “I gotta get over there,” he said. “I’m gonna fly,” he jumped, hyping himself up.

“You got this, baby,” you encouraged him, clapping your hands together.

“Woo!” he jutted his fists in the air but nothing appeared. “Okay, hang on,” he sighed, repeating the actions as before.

“Take your time,” Jenny reassured.

“Maybe you gotta force it out,” Rudy said nonchalantly.

“Wait, you’re a genius, Rudy!” Jaime grinned, stepping off the bench and walking backward.

“I know, what I’d say?” he furrowed his brows just as Jaime started running towards the ledge.

“Wait, Jaime!” you screamed as he jumped over but thankfully Khaji-Da made herself known.

“Woohoo!” he cheered, flying towards Edge Keys.

You don’t think you’re ever getting used to that.

Rudy pulled up in front of the house and your heart broke. Flames blazing out the windows and up the walls, ashes falling down to the lawn, and then your family crowded on the sidewalk came into your vision.

“Apa! No!” Milagro cried out, you and Rudy running over to help.

“Papi!” a familiar voice cried out and you turned your head to see Jaime being dragged into the helicopter. He was trapped by some device, causing him pain. You wanted to run after them, get your boyfriend back, but the chances you had standing against Kord and her bodyguard?

You admitted defeat and went back to running towards your family. You stopped a few steps ahead of you, breath hitching at the sight.

Alberto was unconscious on the ground, face pale. He had another heart attack.

Dropping to your knees next to Nana, you let the tears pour out as you stared at the man who loved you like your father never had. He was the man who looked out for you, who provided for you, the one who accepted you and welcomed you into his home after everything you lost.

Clutching to what you had left, you tried to drown out the cries of Jaime and everyone else. You tried not to pay attention to the piercing headache that’s been aching at you for the last few hours nor the sting in your eyes from the lack of sleep.

You wanted to focus on the silence, the light, something to tell you that all of this is a dream. You’d wake up from your nap, greeting Jaime and congratulating him on his job, and then you would get ready for work again and Jaime would walk you but you’d be against it since he has a big day tomorrow.

But every time you opened your eyes, nothing changed.

You stared blankly at the rubble before you bent down to pick up the family photo. You remembered the day.

It was a month after you had officially moved in. Your side of the room was claimed, you had a seat at the dining table, and you had your list of chores to get done. But something was still missing…

“Necessitamos una nueva foto,” Nana had stood in front of the old family photo. A picture of a younger everyone—Jaime looked so cute. “Ya, Y/N es una parte de la familia,” she gestured towards you and your heart swelled.

The next day you found yourselves at JCPenney, wearing your best clothes, being posed by the photographer.

You were smiling brightly for the first time in a while. It was all because of your family.

Running your fingers over Jaime’s face in the photo, you pressed your lips together to stop the tears from pouring down. You were already mourning one loved one, you don’t think you could handle another.

“Oye,” you heard Nana speak up, everyone gathering around her. “No es hora de llorar,” she cooed at Milagro. “We need to fight and get Jaime back because that’s what your father would’ve wanted us to do,” she affirmed and you wiped your eyes, Millie crying harder at the mention of her father.

She was right and that’s how you found yourself in the bug ship. Thanks to the help of Jenny, who you were sure felt remorse for causing this. You were handed some sort of gadget and out of the corner of your eye, you saw as Nana grabbed the biggest gun you’ve ever seen.

“How do you know how to hold that so well?” Millie questioned.

“There are many things you don’t know about your grandma,” Nana grinned and your eyes widened.

The plan was set, you would go with Jenny and Milagro to find the generator room and shut everything down to find Jaime. Following the two girls in front of you, you were dodging guards back and forth as you were instructed to place explosives on the walls.

Everything seemed to go accordingly until you and the girls had to run from the guards, you felt like you were going to escape until the ceiling above you started rumbling.

“Millie! Go!” you pushed her out of the way before it crushed her, unfortunately, you were now separated.

You called out for anyone, but it was hard as your lids grew heavy. Then everything went dark.

Woken up abruptly, you winced at the pain that radiated through your body. Someone was shouting at you but you could only stay still and you cried out in pain as you were lifted up. You didn’t think anything severe was broken or injured, just sore.

Suddenly you were outside, being dragged towards the same Kord helicopter. Jenny was beside you and she sent you a look, something about it was trusting and reassuring. You tipped your head, letting her know you understood.

“Y/N L/N,” a raspy voice rang through your ears.

You stared at Vicky Kord, your stomach sinking as you shifted in your seat and that’s when you realized she had a gun in her hands.

“22-year-old woman, cosmetology school drop-out, kicked out by her own family after she refused to join her family’s drug dealing business,” she smiled wickedly as she leaned forward towards you. “Works night shifts at Margaritaville and is in love with a boy named Jaime Reyes”.

You glanced down, ashamed and angry. Not many people knew your life’s story. You kept it under wraps and your found family helped you leave it in the past. But now, a Kord seemingly knows all of it.

“What do you want?” you spat.

“Oh, just one thing,” she grinned. “You think you’re on the right path, dear, but working night shifts at a bar doesn’t get you anywhere. But I can help,” she offered and you narrowed your gaze at her. “I can get you out of Edge Keys, you can make something out of yourself and truly know the meaning of hard work,” she said like a promise. “I just need you to get me the scarab,” she shrugged like it didn’t mean killing Jaime in the process.

“Being with family is me being on the right path and I don’t need you to tell me what hard work is,” you sneered.

“Like you would know anything about family,” she chuckled. “You’re really going to give up everything I can give you over a stupid Edge Keys piece of trash,” she scoffed and you grew angry.

Jaime was much more than that and you knew it deep in your soul.

About to strangle the life out of her, Jenny spoke up.

“He might be from Edge Keys, but he knows more about family than you’ll ever know!” Jenny stated firmly before she spit the gum she was chewing out, creating a bubbly goo around you three as you fell out of the helicopter.

You stood up with a groan, finding Jenny and her aunt having a one-on-one before your eyes scanned over the fiery field, and caught sight of Jaime.

“Jaime, oh my god,” you covered your mouth in shock as you ran over to him.

“Y/N,” he said like he couldn’t believe it but he snapped out of it, embracing you as he ran a hand over your hair. “I thought I lost you,” he said, glancing in your eyes, tears streaming down both your faces.

“I’m here,” you rested your head against his before he kissed you. You leaned back, granting him better access before you both pulled away. “I’m so sorry, Jaime,” you licked your lips, sobbing. “Your apá,” you shook your head, cupping his face.

“I know,” he glanced down sorrowfully. “He’s okay, I know it,” he affirmed and you sucked in a breath.

“Okay,” you pressed a smile.

Behind the two of you, Carapax was doing something to Vicky just as he walked over to you. Jaime was quick to shield you as he stopped in front of him.

“Go with your family,” he said in his deep voice and Jaime nodded, gulping.

Clutching to his arm, you looked at Jaime before he spoke.

“Go! Go to the bug ship, I’ll be there!” he pushed you towards the beetle but you shook your head. It was like he sensed something was going to happen and you didn’t like it.

“No, I’m not leaving without you!” you argued, keeping your feet planted.

“Please, just trust me,” he begged and you agreed before grabbing his face and pressing your lips together.

“You better be right about this, Jaime,” you rolled your lips together, taking in one last look at him before you broke off in a sprint.

You sat at the top of the ramp, looking out into the field to see what Jaime was doing. His face became frantic and you leaned forward as he began to run, explosions going off behind him. He made it onto the ramp but slipped until you managed to grab him.

He gasped as he looked up, a soft smile on his face. Rudy and the rest of the family helped you pull him up.

“Now we can cry”.

“Nana, you need help with the nopales?” you asked, kneeling down beside her as you began to pick the most viable ones.

Everyone was dressed in black. Alberto’s funeral was tear-filled. You missed him dearly, but it was time to rebuild. You’d never forget him though.

“Gracias, mija, ven ayudame,” she held her hand out and you got up, giving her support to come up as well.

The rest of the family circled around you, Jaime wrapping his arms around you as he kissed your temple.

“Now we can start rebuilding,” Nana said, holding out the little pot of cacti.

The neighborhood had come to help. Food was brought and a celebration was being made. Jenny even appeared, promising Kord Industries was going to rebuild the house and she gave Rudy a new Tailgate.

The family went to check it out while you, Jaime, and Jenny stayed back. She said something about making sure Jaime got a good job at the company and you couldn’t help but grin in a proud moment.

Things were right for once.

“Let’s take a walk,” Jaime suggested and you agreed, linking your hands together.

You stayed quiet, enjoying the soft breeze and the views of Edge Keys. Rounding the corner, you found yourselves a nice spot on the curb, sitting down next to each other.

“What now?” he asked.

“Like Nana said, we rebuild,” you hummed. “But there’s something I’ve been thinking about for a bit,” you took a breath in and he looked at you expectedly. “I think I want to go back to cosmetology school,” you announced and Jaime’s face broke out into a grin.

“That’s amazing, Y/N!” he hugged you. “What made you decide that?” he asked.

“Not sleeping puts things into perspective,” you began, ending with a laugh. “Now that Jenny is going to give the Edge Keys back to our community, I don’t need to work those night shifts anymore,” you grabbed his hands.

“I’m so glad,” he grabbed your face and pressed kisses around it. “So proud,” he said against your mouth.

“Thank you, Jaime,” you smiled.

“Maybe now that you won’t be working so much, we’ll finally get that alone time,” he wiggled his brows and you laughed.

“Oh yeah, for sure now considering we don’t have a house,” you snorted.

“We can go everywhere now,” he looked up at the sky and you glanced at him as an idea washed over his face. “You wanna take a ride?” he asked and you furrowed your brows.

“How?” you questioned. “Where?”

“Somewhere private,” he smirked and you smiled.

“You’re something else, Jaime,” you stood up, meeting his gaze as you looped your arms around his neck, pressing your body against his.

“Stop,” he exhaled, closing his eyes in embarrassment.

“What?” you grinned, searching his eyes for a guess.

“It’s nothing,” he shook off and that’s when you realized he was talking to Khaji-Da.

“What is it saying?” you grew curious.

“Just,” he dropped his gaze to your lips before he leaned in, enveloping your lips in a soft, gentle kiss. You moaned, fingers grazing his hair. “Hold on,” he broke away and your eyes widened in shock as the suit appeared.

You took off a moment later and you were flying.

Reblogs are the best!

#jaime reyes x reader #jaime reyes #jaime reyes imagine #jaime reyes x you #jaime reyes x y/n #xolo maridueña #blue beetle #blue beetle 2023

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 2 months

Text

I've been dreaming of the Ambitious King.

Long live the King of Beasts, he who shines like the sun.

He stands atop the heap, clutching victory in his righteous grasp.

How does a moment last forever? How can a story never die?

"We've come to finals of the interschool Spelldrive tournament!" an announcer blares over the stadium. "It's down to the wire, and this will be the deciding round. With the scores tied, it’s anyone’s game!!"

A crowd chomps at the bit for a winner to emerge from the field. They lean forward in their seats, clutch onto hope, stuff their mouths with soda and popcorn. This is a show, the players, actors, and they, the audience.

Leona allows himself a smirk.

We’ll give’m a real show-stopper then. That crown is as good as mine.

“What should our strategy be this time, sir?” a teammate—a Scarabia student—asks.

They’re huddled shoulder to shoulder, one student contributed from each of the seven dorms. Their allegiances may lie in different places, but they all wear the same black and violet uniform. They are all Night Ravens, united under one banner: his.

“We’ll finish this in a single decisive blow,” Leona replies, snapping his goggles on. “I’ll take the disc and score us that final point. The rest of you, cover me.”

“You heard the boss,” the smallest player says. It’s Epel, tiny but feisty—a contrast to his big blue eyes and lilac waves of hair. “Don’t worry, Leona-senpai! I’ll fer sure keep’m offa yer tail!”

“That’s what I like to hear, kid.” He raises his head and calls, “Clear!”

And with that, the players peel off into their own positions. The other team, uniforms pristine white and hemmed in royal blue, are patiently waiting. Leona pulls up to the center of the field where the referee and the opposing team’s leader await.

When he looks, he falters.

It’s a face that is frighteningly similar to his own.

The same skin color, the same lion ears and tail, the same construction of the features—if not softer and more friendly. His mane is held up in a ponytail, bright red-orange that fades into a golden yellow. He’s younger than he should be, missing the slight creases under his warm brown eyes and the lines that flank his perpetually smiling mouth.

“Falena?”

An icy dread creeps up from his core. The world around him seems to slow and come to a complete stop.

But this can’t be. My brother is 10 years older than me. He’s no longer a student, he’s—

“Leona? Is something wrong?” Falena inquires with a cheeky grin. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid to play against family.”

Annoyance flares up.

Brother or not, Leona detests that smile. The smile of a man that has robbed him of everything.

“Dream on,” he snarls back. “I’m overthrowing Royal Sword Academy and you."

The referee lets the disc drop and blows into his whistle. “BEGIN!!”

"Aaand it's started!!" the announcer declares.

His body instinctively kicks into action. He swipes the frisbee, keeping it afloat in a blaze of blood-red magic.

RSA swarm him, magical pens at the ready.

“Protect him…!” he hears Epel shout. “Protect the king!!”

His team charges, each of them trained on their target. NRC and RSA, reflecting the other, copying movements as they bound around on the field, seeking an opening or cutting it off.

Leona blows into enemy territory, furiously racing to the goal post.

"What's this?! It looks like Captain Kingscholar of the NRC team has already devised a plan to secure victory. They're closing off any aid the RSA team can offer to each other!"

The crowd revs up like an engine coming alive, a slumbering city waking. Blood thunders in his ears, louder than his audience.

"Oh no, you don't!"

"Oooh, and here comes the upset! It's Captain Kingscholar of the RSA team, come to interfere with the game plan!"

Leona swerves, and a stream of fire narrowly misses him. "Tsk!"

A flash of red and gold, and there's his brother at his side. "Sorry, Leona. It won't be that easy."

"Knock it off. I don't have time to play games with you!"

He dives, trying to shake Falena off--but he pursues, relentless in the chase. They thread each other in the sky, trading spells.

Explosions of heat and color. Shards of ice whizzing by, columns of water. Windy whips lashing at them. All-consuming light and darkness.

"This is amazing, folks! We are witnessing a brotherly quarrel the likes of which we've never seen before... Look at that dazzling display of flight technique and spellwork!"

Through it all, Falena' laughs.

So carefree, so cheerful. A knife twists in his chest, and the anger spikes again.

"That's enough...! I'm ending this," Leona snarls.

His magic collects in a single sphere. There is no body to it, no true shape--only a contained vortex of gales. They violently churn in an endless cycle, raising a storm in a jar.

He sends it hurtling at Falena, who moves to conjure a barrier--

Too late.

The ball expands, releasing its energy in one deep sigh. The audience is slammed back into their seats, the players blown to the ground or sent crashing into the bounds of the stadium. They're dazed, confused, scrambling to rebalance on their brooms.

The path, he sees, is clear.

Now...!

He lets out a monstrous roar and blitzes for the goal post. The disc sparkles, charging with power for the final blow as he gallops toward his prize.

The announcer hops back on, his voice frantic. "Could this be it?! Can Captain Kingscholar of the NRC team reclaim the throne from his brother?!"

Noise builds around him. RSA players calling out to each other, NRC players changing his name, the crowd cheering.

It's now or never.

Leona spikes the disc with all his might. It clears, the winning shot like a shooting star. Some golden object encapsulated in a blaze of fire.

The adrenaline in his blood sings with triumph. His tired muscles, his heavy breathing, the sweat upon his brow--badges of honor.

The sound intensifies, joined by whistles and shrieks. Feet stomping, hands clapping. People standing and hugging their neighbors. (Leona thinks he sees Crowley among them, sobbing uncontrollably.)

“This is incredible, ladies and gentlemen! You’ve just witnessed history being made today…! Night Raven College has snatched victory from the jaws of defeat, breaking Royal Sword Academy’s 99 year win streak!!"

Leona slowly returns to the ground, dismounting from his broom. He lands beside Falena, who is sprawled on his back and wearing the usual smile.

"Ahahah, looks like you beat me," he says casually.

"... Fool. Get up, you look ridiculous. The acting king of the Sunset Savanna shouldn't be rolling around in the dirt." Leona looks away, but awkwardly offers a hand.

Falena laughs and accepts it, hauling himself up. "That's a funny joke. When did you get a sense of humor?"

He scowled. "I didn't make one."

"Are you still half asleep? And you still beat me?" Falena punches him in the bicep. "That's my talented big bro."

"What... big bro?"

There it is again: something cold and sinister inside of him. The lingering feeling of wrongness.

Suddenly, the adrenaline in him turns toxic, and he feels as though his flesh and bones are burning. Leona seizes Falena by the shoulders and shakes him.

"What the hell is going on... Gaaah!"

A metallic screech fills the stadium. Pain blossoms in his ears, and Leona rushes to guard them, hands dropping away from Falena.

"Oops, sorry! Technical difficulties, folks!" the announcer apologizes. "It looks like even our equipment wants to cheer for Captain Kingscholar of the NRC team, the star player of today! Let's give him a round of applause!!"

They explode with excitement, Clapping and calling out louder than he can think.

"What a judicious young man!"

"He controls such powerful magic with ease...!"

He stands there, shocked, at the rain of adoration. Him, recognized? Respected, saluted, and seen as the wonder he is? Him?

His mind clouds.

What is this,,,?

"Leona-saaaan!!"

He turns, finding his teammates jogging over, Epel at the head. There are members of his own dorm with them--Ruggie, Jack.

"We gotcha now, Leona-san! Thought you could get away without getting your fur ruffled, huh?" Ruggie snickers, then gives Jack a thumbs-up. "Alright, fellas. You know what to do!"

"Hah, the hell is this? I didn't ask for a surprise after working my tail off."

"Sorry, Leona-senpai! Ruggie-senpai's orders!" Jack says very seriously. "This is the only way to give you a proper sendoff for carrying us to victory... You've earned it!"

"1, 2, 3...!"

"Wha...?!"

Leona is seized and hoisted into the air with a collective whoop of excitement. Tossed up, up, up. The stadium lights glaring, sound blasting.

He returns back to his peer's arms, and heaved up again. Down and up, down and up. Each pass makes him more nauseous, blinded and deafened by the dizzying joy.

"Long live the king! Long live the king!!" they chant.

The king... me? Leona fights against it, pushing as hard as he can.

But his body is tired, his mental capacities drained, his emotions worn. The situation, too sweet, too cloying.

I'm... the king... I won. This is my prize.

He closes his eyes and lets himself fall.

This time, for good.

When he opens them again, he swears he sees a dark figure flying high above the stadium. Not on a broom, but floating of his own accord. A pair of horns protrudes him his head, and he glimpses a pair of ghostly white hands clapping.

One additional spectator with glowing green eyes.

"Congratulations, Kingscholar."

185 notes · View notes

genshinluvr · 10 months

Text

Weaseling in

Pairings: Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader (Neuvillette x Iseai'd!Reader x Wriothesley)

Summary: The men left to grab some food while you stay back and wait for them to return. When they return, they see that you're not alone. The two strangers from Fontaine are chatting you up— only they recognize the two strangers with familiar faces from the last time you got lost in Fontaine.

Note: This is a late post since I was supposed to post it last night, I delayed/postponed it due to my brother and his fiancee convincing me to play a drinking game. Spoiler: it didn't end well for me— I got drunk, and everything went back up ;v; But fear not, I am here with the update! This is a mini-fic since I'm on vacation right now and can't type long fics. I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: None that I know of

Word Count: 3.7k

It was supposed to be a fun trip to the City of Justice between you and your lovely twenty-five boyfriends. The twenty-six of you were supposed to enjoy the beautiful land ruled by the Hydro Archon. But, of course, the lovely day was ruined by two natives of Fontaine. The very same natives who helped you traverse around the City of Justice, the same people who kept you company while you were running around like a headless fowl, searching high and low for your beloved twenty-five boyfriends in the city run by the Hydro Archon.

Your twenty-five boyfriends went to get something to eat and drink, telling you to stay in one spot and not to move until they returned. That is what you did! You stayed where the men told you to stay because they did not want the incident from a few weeks ago to happen again. The moment the men returned to the spot where they had left you, they saw you conversing with the same two men that kept you company before you had a full-blown emotional breakdown.

Itto groans, throwing his head back. “Great. It’s those guys again,” Itto grumbles, glaring at the two men standing before you.

Childe points at the black-haired man with silver streaks and the other man with silver hair and blue streaks. “Why are they talking to [Y/N]?” Childe asks, tempted to drop everything in his hands and storm toward the three of you.

Scaramouche shrugs. “To heck if I know. They seem to be enjoying whatever conversation they’re having,” Scaramouche interjects, clutching the bag of food with a tight fist.

You’re giggling at something they said while the black-haired man and silver-haired man gaze at you with obvious heart eyes. You, however, glance around the City of Justice while chattering about something your twenty-five boyfriends can’t make out. Sweet, sweet, [Y/N]. So painfully oblivious to the heart eyes the two men before you are giving you.

“Is it just me, or is the sun brighter now that you’re in Fontaine?” Wriothesley asks, leaning against the wall with a suave smile.

You stare at Wriothesley cluelessly before giggling and looking away. “Isn’t the sun always bright? How is it brighter now that I’m here?” You ask.

Neuvillette clears his throat and nudges Wriothesley with his elbow, smiling at you politely. At the same time, Wriothesley stares at you with his mouth agape at your obliviousness. “Ignore his comment, [Y/N]. What brings you here to Fontaine? Are you, perhaps, here to visit us?” Neuvillette asks, grabbing your hand and kissing your knuckles delicately without breaking eye contact.

You gulp as heat rushes to your cheeks at the gesture. “Well, my boyfriends and I are visiting Fontaine to familiarize ourselves with the City of Justice! I have a feeling we’ll be visiting the region frequently,” you reply, nodding confidently.

Neuvillette drops your hand while he and Wriothesley gaze at you with shock and surprise. Neuvillette is the first person to fix his composure—fixing his clothes and clearing his throat. Wriothesley, on the other hand, pouts and crosses his arms over his chest after being reminded that you’re, unfortunately, taken.

“You didn’t get lost again, did you? If so, we’d be happy to show you around the City of Justice. We weren’t able to show you around much last time,” says Neuvillette, smiling at you charmingly.

You gulp. You are okay with having Neuvillette, and Wriothesley show you around the City of Justice. However, given the last time, your twenty-five boyfriends have butted heads with Neuvillette and Wriothesley— well, Childe and Itto butted heads with Neuvillette and Wriothesley, not the other twenty-three— you're a tad bit hesitant on letting the two men before you give a tour around the beautiful city ruled by the Hydro Archon. Childe and Itto are... possessive men. Well, they're the ones that aren't afraid to show how possessive they are of you. Most of the time, you don't mind it one bit unless it gets out of hand, of course.

"Hmmm... I can see the hesitation," Wriothesley says, propping his hands on his hips while narrowing his eyes at you.

You sigh. "I don't mind having you give a tour around the City of Justice! However, I'm not here alone, and I'm waiting for my beloveds to return with food," you said, turning around to search for your twenty-five boyfriends.

When you and Al Haitham lock gazes, your eyes light up, and you wave them over excitedly. How can they be upset with you when this is your reaction to seeing them after they left to get something to eat? Your excitement is too cute! Plus, what's there to be worried about when your whole world is the beloved men approaching you with take-outs in their hands? You bounce on the balls of your feet, waving at them excitedly before launching yourself at the nearest person.

Zhongli catches you with ease and chuckles, rubbing the top of your head affectionately before placing you on the ground. You wrap your arms around Zhongli's waist with a big smile before running to each person to hug them. It took a while to get to every person, but you successfully hugged each person!

"Who are your friends?" Zhongli asks, raising his eyebrows at the Fontaine natives.

You clear your throat, shuffling over to Neuvillette and Wriothesley, doing jazz hands after gesturing to the two tall men. "My loves, meet Neuvillette and Wriothesley! I'm sure we did the introductions already," you murmur, tapping your chin. "Right?" You ask, cocking your head to the side.

Dainsleif smiles and nods, gesturing you to come over. You walk toward the blond man, and he wraps his arms around your shoulders. "Do you want to eat now? The food is going to get cold the more we wait," says Dainsielf, holding up the take-out bag for your to see.

You smile widely and nod. "Yes, please! My growling stomach was starting to bother me!" You say. You turn to the two men and clasp your hands in front of you. "Would you two like to join us for lunch?"

The two men look at you with surprise while your boyfriends look away and sulk without you looking. It would be rude to walk away and not invite the two men with you, now would it? Plus, it'd be nice to have two natives of Fontaine to give you and your beloved boyfriends a tour around the City of Justice! Granted, you know there will be tension between Neuvillette, Wriothesley, Itto, and Childe. Still, you're praying to the seven Archons that they will be on their best behaviors and try not to attack one another when you have your backs turned toward them.

"Uh, we weren't expecting guests to join us on our lunch in Fontaine, but I guess it's fine as long as you're okay with it," Diluc murmurs, stroking his chin.

You smile widely and turn toward the other men, bouncing on the balls of your feet while waiting for their response. Dear, Archons. How could they say no to that precious face of yours? The look of excitement and anticipation is apparent on your face. You remind them of a child with a sugar high. It's adorable but makes it hard for them to say no when you're excited to have new people joining the twenty-six of you for lunch.

"If it's okay with the others, then it's fine with me. I don't mind having people join us for lunch," Albedo replies calmly, nodding.

Kazuha hums, tapping his foot on the ground. "While we don't mind having them join us for lunch, we did order enough for the twenty-six of us. Unless they don't mind buying their food?" Kazuha asks, looking over at Neuvillette and Wriothesley.

After Kazuha said that, you look at the take-out bags the men have in their hands and arms. To you, it seems enough to feed an army. Considering your beloved boyfriends do have big appetites, it doesn't surprise you that breakfast, lunch, and dinner look like a feast for an entire kingdom. Okay, maybe you're exaggerating on that last bit. Still, it's enough to feed a family of five in a medium-sized village.

Wriothesley throws his hands in the air before pointing at your beloved boyfriends. "That's enough to feed a small village!" Wriothesley turns to you, brushing his hair back. "How about I take you somewhere nice? Picnics are nice, but I believe lunch would be better indoors, under comfortable lighting with an amazing view." He smirks and winks at you.

You hum, pursing your lips while contemplating Wriothesley's proposition.

Kaeya places his hand on your shoulder, turning you toward him. "You're not thinking about his deal, are you? Those two can join us. However, they're not allowed to snatch you up for themselves!" Kaeya says, glaring at Wriothesley and Neuvillette.

You stare at Kaeya. The man is visibly pouting while giving you puppy dog eyes (eye?). You can't help but giggle and wrap your arms around Kaeya's slim waist, pressing your ears against his chest. Kaeya sighs dramatically, wrapping both arms around your body, and rests his cheek on your head, making sure to be facing Neuvillette and Wriothesley just to smirk at them victoriously.

"Kaeya, there's nothing to worry about! Plus, don't you think it'd be nice to have more friends from another region?" You ask, peeking up at Kaeya.

Xiao huffs from behind Kaeya. "Four regions are enough. We don't need to add any more people to the group," Xiao grumbles to Gorou, who nods reluctantly.

Venti snickers, leaning toward Xiao. "You know, even if you say that, more people will join no matter what. You said that last time when we stopped at Inazuma and Sumeru," Venti whispers, nudging the Yaksha with a teasing grin.

Xiao scowls at Venti, crossing his arms over his chest. You turn to the two men and trot to them, stopping before them while lightly bouncing on the balls of your feet. So far, you didn't hear a no! Besides, Xiao's answer doesn't count because he was replying to something else, not the question about whether Wriothesley and Neuvillette can join or not.

"So? Will you two be joining us for lunch, Neuvillette and Wriothesley?" You ask, anticipating their response.

If you had a tail, it would be wagging incredibly fast. Neuvillette and Wriothesley look at one another and then at the twenty-five men behind you. How could they say no to that face? Plus, it would be rude to turn down a lunch invitation from you.

Aether clears his throat. "You two should make your decision quickly. I'm starting to get hungry, and I don't want the food to be cold the minute we start eating," Aether comments, propping his hands on his hip while clutching the take-out bag with the other.

Neuvillette hums, stroking his chin. "If that's the case, then we will join you," Neuvillette says, nodding.

You cheer, grab Neuvillette and Wriothesley by the wrists, and pull toward the large building. The twenty-five men remain in their spots, watching you drag Neuvillette and Wriothesley toward an unknown direction. Al Haitham sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Does [Y/N] know where we'll be having the picnic for lunch?" Tighnari whispers, his ears twitching atop his head with curiosity.

Kaveh sighs, propping his hands on his hips. "It doesn't seem like it. We didn't really tell them where the picnic is being held," Kaveh replies.

The twenty-five men continue to watch you drag Neuvillette and Wwriothesley to the center of the City of Justice. They watch you stop in your tracks before slowly making your way toward them with a sheepish smile. At the same time, Neuvillette and Wriothesley allow you to drag them from place to place. You stop in front of your beloved boyfriends, releasing the two Fontaine natives' wrists.

You clear your throat. "Uh... hehe... Where are we having the picnic for lunch again? I don't think either of you told me where lunch is going to be exactly," you tuck your hair behind your ear.

Ayato smiles. "We were going to show you where, but you ran off with your two new friends without even thinking about us, your boyfriends," Ayato teases, reaching forward and gently pinching your cheek.

Neuvillette crosses his arms over his chest. "Oh? And does this place have a beautiful scenery of the City of Justice?" Neuvillette asks, raising his eyebrows at Ayato.

Ayato frowns at Neuvillette, mimicking Neuvillette's actions by crossing his arms over his chest. You look at Neuvillette curiously. Neuvillette smiles and strokes your hair. Your beloved boyfriends frown at the silver-haired man's actions. For someone who doesn't know you, Neuvillette is quite brave— especially when he's stroking your hair in front of your boyfriends' eyes.

Cyno hums, staring at Neuvillette and Wriothesley blankly. "Well, since you seem to be challenging Lord Ayato's picnic option, what place do you have in mind?" Cyno asks.

Wriothesley grins. "Oh! I think I know what place Monsieur Neuvillette is referring to!" Wriothesley exclaims, propping his arm on the refined gentleman's shoulders.

You and your twenty-five boyfriends look at Wriothesley and Neuvillette curiously. Neuvillette and Wriothesley gesture for the twenty-six of you to follow them. The two men from Fontaine grab you by your wrist to have you walk beside them while they tell you more about Fontaine.

Al Haitham drags out a sigh. "These two men are starting to test my patience," Al Haitham mutters, rubbing his temples.

"Now you know how I feel when I hear you talk," Kaveh interjects nonchalantly.

Al Haitham glares at Kaveh before Gorou lets out an exasperated sigh, grabbing the two men by their ears and dragging them after you, Neuvillette, and Wriothesley. Kaveh cries out and yells at Gorou to release him as the General continues to drag Al Haitham and Kaveh by the ears. The twenty-two men follow, shaking their heads with amusement.

Upon arriving at the location Neuvillette and Wriothesley vaguely implied prior, you can't help but gasp in awe. There are concrete steps on the steep hills leading toward a medium-sized gazebo with blue flowers wrapping and weaving through the intricate designs. Small and medium-sized blue rose bushes are lined up along the sides of the pavilion.

"Wow," you whisper in awe.

Heizou hums, stroking his chin. "They weren't wrong about the view. It's breathtaking," Heizou says, gazing out toward the view of the City of Justice.

"The view is nice and all, but we should start eating, or else the food is going to get cold," Thoma comments, placing his bag on the glass table in the middle of the gazebo.

Lunch was nothing but awkward, needless to say. The entire time everyone was eating, each person was trying to get your attention. Your beloved boyfriends weren't pleased with Neuvillette and Wriothesley diverting your attention to them. You didn't have time to speak before one person cuts off the one that's speaking to you.

"What do you think of the food?" Pantalone asks, scooping the food onto the plate.

You hum. "It's really good! It's nice to try something new, you know?" You ask, wiping your lips with the paper napkin.

Wriothesley props his arm on the table, smiling at you sweetly. "I bet the food in Fontaine is better than the other regions, huh?" Wriothesley asks, ignoring the glares the men are giving him.

You purse your lips and tap on your chin. While the food in Fontaine is delicious, you can't immediately consider it better than the dishes in other regions. So, you decide to leave Wriothesley's question unanswered and continue to eat the food in front of you while your boyfriends glare at the black-haired man. While you're eating, Neuvillette reaches across, grabs you by your chin, and tilts your head up. You stare at Neuvillette as he stares at this particular area on your face.

"Hm? Is there something on my face?" You ask, wiping around your face with the napkin.

Neuvillette chuckles and wipes the corner of your lips with his thumb. "Yes, but you missed it," he murmurs.

Gorou clears his throat, grabbing your and Neuvillette's attention. "After this, do you want to walk around with me and enjoy the scenery?" Gorou asks, propping his arm on the table.

Neuvillette and Wriothesley chuckles. "How kind of you to ask us to join, but we're not interested," Wriothesley says, brushing his bangs away from his face.

"He wasn't talking to you two," Pierro rolls his eyes, dabbing his lips with the napkin. "I find it strange to insert yourselves into conversations that have nothing to do with you." Pierro chuckles bitterly.

Neuvillette and Wriothesley roll their eyes at Pierro's comment before proceeding on what they were doing: flirting shamelessly with you while you finish your food. You're not oblivious to your boyfriends flirting with you. However, you're oblivious when it comes to other people flirting with you. The way people flirt with you is different from how your boyfriends would do it, and for some reason, no matter how obvious these people try to be, it flies over your head.

Dottore peeks from the gazebo, watching you, Neuvillette, and Wriothesley lean against the railing. "What do you think they're talking about?" Dottore asks, narrowing his eyes.

"I don't know, and quite frankly, I don't care. As long as they don't get handsy with [Y/N] and as long as they know [Y/N] is out of reach," Capitano replies gruffly.

Neuvillette plucks the flower from the flower bush and hands them to you. You grab the flower and twirl it by the stems, admiring its beauty. The flower is really pretty. Maybe you should plant a flower bush at the abode around the estate.

"The flower is beautiful, but they're not nearly as beautiful as you," Wriothesley says, resting his chin on the palm of his hands while smiling at you.

You smile and continue to admire the flower. "I don't think you should be comparing me to a flower, Wriothesley," you said under your breath.

Neuvillette sighs, rubbing the back of his neck before having you turn toward him. You gaze at Neuvillette, continuing to twirl the flower between your thumb and index finger. Neuvillette grabs your chin and strokes your cheek. You clear your throat, placing your hand over his to stop his movement. Neuvillette releases your chin and slowly puts his hands down.

"You're right. We shouldn't be comparing you to a flower," Neuvillette murmurs, "because your beauty outshines the flower. It's incomparable."

You gulp as heat rushes to your face. You've been complimented plenty of times by your twenty-five boyfriends, and no matter how many times they have done it, you can never get used to it. Compliments coming from people other than your boyfriends are something you never expect. Usually, the compliments are vague and would be a passing comment such as, 'You look pretty today!' or 'I love the clothes you're wearing! Where did you get them?' But the compliments from Neuvillette and Wriothesley are bolder and brave.

You say their flirting with you is brave because they're brave enough to flirt and compliment you in front of your boyfriends. You know they're watching you, Neuvillette, and Wriothesley the entire time. You find it amusing but adorable because you have never seen them jealous before. And even if your twenty-five boyfriends were to express their jealousy, they try to be inconspicuous about it.

There's a faint sound of glass shattering, pulling your attention away from Neuvillette. You see Capitano dust his hands nonchalantly. You see shattered wine glass on the freshly cut grass in front of Capitano's feet.

"Capitano...." you sigh, walking from Neuvillette and Wriothesley toward the Harbinger. "You're not hurt, are you?"

Capitano huffs, looking away from you and letting you take his hands into yours. "I'm not hurt. A glass cup can't harm someone like me," Capitano mutters.

You pause and blink at Capitano. Capitano sounds like he's pouting. You press your lips into a thin line and wrap your arms around his waist, pressing your ear against his chest.

"Are you pouting?" You tease.

Capitano hesitates and looks at you. You have this shit-eating grin on your face, and you're batting your eyelashes at him. Capitano doesn't reply, only huffs in response, and looks away again. It's a good thing he's wearing a helmet, or else you'll see how flustered he became.

"Oh, yeah. He's pouting. This is my first time seeing Capitano like this," Childe laughs, standing beside Capitano and propping his arm on the Harbinger's shoulder.

Scaramouche lets out an exasperated sigh. "Can you blame him? It's unbearable to see someone try to flirt with your significant other while you're present," Scaramouche grumbles, looking at Neuvillette and Wriothesley from the corner of his eyes.

"If they want to flirt with [Y/N] shamelessly, then they can get in line with the rest of us," Itto says, propping his hands on his hips while pointing his nose up in the air with a loud huff.

Aether stares at the Oni, blinking at him before looking at everyone else.

Heizou clears his throat. "But we're dating [Y/N]. Are you implying that Neuvillette and Wriothesley should join [Y/N]'s not-so-small harem?" asks Heizou.

Itto shrugs, turning to look at the two approaching men. "They might as well join it. I'm in the mood to bully a person or two," Itto chuckles, popping his knuckles.

Your eyes nearly pop out of their sockets after hearing Itto's comment. It wasn't the bullying comment— it was the comment about how Neuvillette and Wriothesley might as well join your harem of pretty and handsome men. It's strange to you because Itto is almost as possessive as Childe, but he's willing to let Neuvillette and Wriothesley date you as well?

"I'm down for it. I can use a target practice or two," Childe says, rubbing his hands together with a smirk.

Wriothesley and Neuvillette roll their eyes. "As if we'd let you two win," Wriothesley smirks.

You watch Childe and Itto throw their arms around Wriothesley and Nevillette's shoulders, guiding them to where the other men are standing. Heizou, Aether, Capitano, and Scaramouche all sighed simultaneously. It looks like an addition to the harem wouldn't hurt now, would it?

Note: Sorry for not posting last night. I did plan on it, but then the drinking game went on for a while, and I found out I'm a sleepy drunk. Trust me, I did want to post, but I couldn't 😭 My vacation's been good so far! My sleep schedule is very messed up. So, if I end up posting stuff at odd hours or at a different time than I usually do, it's because of my sleep schedule. Anyway, please, please, please vote on this [poll]! You have 24 hours to vote on what I will be writing and posting next week :) I won't be posting the link to my Discord server for this week due to being on vacation, but I'll post a new link next week ^^ Anyway, to all my new and returning readers, keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Taglist for my Isekai'd!Reader one-shot series and my overall taglist: @chirikoheina, @yoru-trash, @kaoyamamegami, @deartoru, @luminarymoonlight, @toobytub, @ins4nebish, @bokuto-kinnie, @exhaustedcommunist, @jadedist, @mompt2, @chalksdreams, @thelost-in-time, @ventisweetheart, @hispasian-otaku, @juuuuuj101010, @samarill, @testsubject0012, @irisxiel, @kazuhaprnt, @lunarapple, @emilymikado, @mabie, @vinnie-w, @n8mareee, @heyimkay, @eliciana, @blesstosuisen, @goldeneclipsedragon, @jjvr4yxc, @sovermike-21-blog, @vox34, @skyyyyackerman, @undecidingfate, @nightlysunn, @faeryminnyx, @simpcreator, @lucifarts-boxers, @thelovebuggs, @urlocalheizousimp, @sunlightstarr (Accounts that I was unable to tag have been removed. Those who don't want to be tagged in certain stories are not tagged in this particular post. Remember to check your settings to see if you're allowing people to mention you/tag you in posts or not)

Read more of my works on my Masterlist / Masterlist 2 | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! I might post all of my stories on there too, but who knows. You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like as a way to show support! ^^

661 notes · View notes

offictionandfandoms · 2 years

Text

✎﹏﹏ Rumors Pt. 2

Previous | Next

✑ Pairings: Eddie Munson x f!reader!

✑ Word Count: 5192

✑ Requested: Yes/No

✑ Warnings: Angst into fluff, cursing, bad DND talk because I don’t understand DND so….yeah. Let me know if I missed anything!

✑ Authors Note: I just want to thank everyone who loved the last part and requested to be tagged in this one. It truly means so much to me, y’all have no idea. I wish I could reply to every comment asking to be tagged but I was busy making this. I’m sorry if I missed anyone! I hope this part lives up to expectations and you love it just as much. Also. I have a small part three that is just fluff because I was in a mood and I already liked the way I had ended this one…so. Here is a short fluff part 3! Enjoy :)

✑ Gif isn’t mine!

“It’s spelled with an ‘e’ not an ‘o’,” Y/N critiqued the paper in front of her, using her usual red pen to circle the mistake. The paper was adorned in red ink at this point, harshly overlapping the pencil markings, something she usually tried to limit. She always believed that verbally pointing out the mistakes and allowing the student to fix it in the moment was better than just marking the paper and letting them go. But over the past few days, all she cared about was wrapping up her tutoring sessions as fast as possible so she could escape back to her house.

“Oh, okay.” The dejected tone of the student had her looking up from the paper, red pen hesitating over yet another mistake she was about to mark. The reason being that she always wished to verbally correct them over just marking was that they always took the red marks to heart: the more marks there were, the worse the feeling of failure became. She was a tutor, not a dream crusher. Yet that’s all she had been doing lately. She recognized this, but she couldn’t stop it. It was like an angry blue monster had sat right on her brain, eating away at all sense of logic, healing, and hope, replacing it all with bitterness, sadness, and tints of anger whenever she saw Eddie Munson’s stupid pretty face in the halls or in class. She felt horrible in every way possible.

“I’m sorry,” she started, opening her mouth to give words of encouragement but halting before anything slipped out. The wide green eyes staring back at her were waiting, wanting some sort of pick-me-up advice and comfort. But how could she offer them that when she couldn’t even give it to herself? On top of feeling horrible, she felt pathetic. It had been days since the break up, days since she spoke to Eddie or even Jason, who she still hadn’t confronted about the rumor. The only person who she actively spoke to beyond her tutoring clients was Max Mayfield, who insisted on checking in on her every day, even if it meant her step-brother had to wait in the parking lot.

“It’s not a bad paper, these errors- they’re small. Just little things. You can fix them and everything will be okay.” She muttered out, averting her eyes back to the paper, yet not truly taking anything in. She had begged Eddie to let her fix her error- which she now knew hadn’t even been /her/ error- and he rejected her. Banished her, actually. The thought now made her laugh— was she some traitorous princess, banned from her kingdom?

Yes.

Quickly circling the last mistake she could find, or really the first mistake her eye came to after coming back into focus, she pushed it over the table towards the rightful owner, watching as they scanned over all the red. You couldn’t even make out what they had actually written in the first paragraph due to her scribbles.

Their shoulders slumped, “I. . . When I fix them, can I come back to you?” She wanted to say no, she wanted to cancel all her tutoring sessions for the next week but she couldn’t. So she just nodded her head and offered the kid a small discount for the next session, as she really wasn’t 100% there herself.

She watched as they shoved everything in their backpack and took off, leaving her alone with her thoughts. At least for another ten minutes, at least, before her next and final client showed up. She was currently holding all of her sessions outside; the wind blowing her hair into a little dance and kissing her skin felt more freeing than the feeling of stares crawling over her body and whispers assaulting her ears. Whispers of what, she wasn’t sure. She wasn’t sure if her overactive imagination and paranoia was making her hear her own name or if they were genuinely whispering about her. She wasn’t sure she even wanted to know.

Students were still dallying in the parking lot; some throwing balls back and forth like there wasn’t an actual sports field behind the school, some making out with their significant others like they didn’t have a house to go to, and some, like herself, sitting alone to study like they actually cared about school.

In her stupor, she could make out someone asking to talk, but she assumed that it was directed towards someone else, not bothering to turn around and see who it was. Not until the person said her name.

“Y/N?” Normally, she would’ve turned around to properly address whoever was speaking to her. Normally, she would’ve greeted whoever it was with a smile, maybe a handshake or a hug, and invited them to sit down with her until her next client came. She was raised in a proper household, she had manners.

But this wasn’t a normal case. And that wasn’t just anyone saying her name. She could tell who it was within seconds, the cadence of his voice permanently etched into her brain.

So, in that situation, she froze. Like a deer in headlights, she stared ahead of her, vaguely seeing the football go sailing through the air, and in her peripheral’s, the shadow of a body taking a seat beside her. Uninvited.

“Please.”

It was such an odd time in her brain. Because she could recall just how easily she used to cave into his cute little plea’s, how seeing his pouty face as he begged her to give in had filled her with such a strong sense of adoration that she felt like she was floating. Now she could also recall just how easily he denied her when she pleaded, how seeing him push her out the drama room door felt like he had stapled an eviction notice to her heart. She could feel the want to give in, to turn to him and promise to make things better. Normally that would be enough to make her do it. But, again, this wasn’t a normal situation. The blue monster was turning red, tendrils of smoke puffing down her spine and overcoming the want for them to work out with the want to tell him to shove it. Neither side won, and she just sat there, knee bouncing as her mind and heart fought a war inside her. It wasn’t her place to make things better anymore, she had already tried. But she couldn’t imagine treating him like he had her, even if he deserved it.

As if he could read her mind, he nodded, leaning forward on the table to try to catch her attention. If only he knew that every nerve ending in her body was standing on end for him, how every neuron in her brain felt like they were on a live wire that was Eddie Munson’s guitar string. Even if she wasn’t looking his way, she was still acutely aware of every move he made, every breath he took, and even his hair being ruffled by the wind.

The rings glinting in the sunlight was what made her look over, though. Specifically the ring he had on his ring finger— the one that she had bought him. It was a gift for them making it a month together. Eddie had freaked out because he hadn’t got her anything, mainly because he didn’t get the hype of a monthiversary, not because he hadn’t remembered. When the next month came around and he had brought her handpicked flowers and a guitar pick with their initials messily engraved on them, she had laughed, explaining how two months isn’t really celebrated but that she loved them. He had started complaining about how monthiversary’s are complicated but she kissed him mid-sentence and took the flowers to a vase. She still had the dried petals in a box in her bedroom and the guitar pick in her jewelry box for safe keeping.

“I couldn’t take it off.” He had noticed her staring at the ring, lost in thought. So lost that she hadn’t noticed that he had begun to fiddle with the ring nervously. She raised an eyebrow at how easily it spun around, clearly not too tight for him to be unable to remove it. He caught that, too. “I mean. I could. But I.. couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Didn’t want to.”

Finally she lifted her gaze to meet his, the wide puppy stare a punch to her already beaten gut, “Why?” It was the first thing she had said to him since the breakup, and yet it summed up everything she wanted to know. Why couldn’t he take the ring off? Why didn’t he trust her? Why didn’t he talk to her? Why didn’t he love her enough to make things work?

She could see his Adam’s apple bob with a harsh swallow, almost like he had picked up on her thoughts regarding this, too.

“Well, you see, it’s my favorite.” The same goofy grin she had come to love developed on his face, his hair sweeping across his forehead as he dipped his head down. He was trying to be cute. He was trying to be cute to hide the fact that his fingers were now tapping against the table nervously, much like her bouncing leg. He was trying to be cute to hide the fact that he was as upset over everything as she was. If he knew her enough to pick up on her thoughts, then she surely knew him enough to do the same. And there was no way he was as upset as she was.

Anger finally took hold of her as she crammed her studying books, index cards, and red pen in her bag, swinging it over her shoulder as she stood up. The momentum nearly caused her to stumble but she used it to propel herself towards the school doors.

“Yeah, well. Things change. Find a new one.”

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

After managing to find her last client and change location to the library, Y/N had been homeward bound and had never felt better about it. The brief encounter she had with Eddie had left her shaken and she just wanted the comfort of her blankets and whatever sad song she could find on the radio.

Though, the next day brought even more shaking encounters and by the time lunchtime rolled around, she was thoroughly exhausted and on edge. She had nearly failed her first period exam, hadn’t been able to answer a question that her second period teacher had asked due to her being zoned out, and then she nearly tripped in the hallway, losing some papers in her skirmish to regain balance. She didn’t even try to get them back as she hurried to the cafeteria, eager to eat mediocre pizza and not be bothered.

But, as all bad days go, they get worse.

“Hey, Y/N! Hey!” She could barely contain her groan as she lifted her head to see Jason waving his hand for her to join his group in the line. The people who stood between her and him gave her warning glares, as if to say ‘don’t you dare skip again’. She had no intentions of doing so.

“Hey, Jason. I’m good here, thanks though.” While she was angry at Jason and his inability to shut up, most of her anger lay with Eddie, who bought into the cheap rumor without hesitation. Though, she still didn’t want to be near Jason or his posse of dumbasses.

“They’re not going to say anything. Right, guys? She can come up here.” He asked, his voice carrying over the other conversations taking place as he addressed the glaring individuals. None of them went against Jason’s order, though none looked happy about it, either.

Y/N was forced to take a deep breath through her nose as she steadied herself. It felt as if she was teetering on a tightrope and either way she fell, she was going to end up having a breakdown. Whether it be from anger or sadness was yet to be determined. In this moment, though, she was about to swan dive into anger.

The tight lipped smile she gave him felt painful on her face as she spoke through gritted teeth, “I’m fine here, Jason.”

But, as all choices given by egotistical jocks go, you don’t really have a choice.

Y/N soon found herself sandwiched between Jason and his buddies as they came down the line to her, willingly giving up their space near the trays just to grate her nerves even more.

“You know something, N/N?” Jason started, looking down at her with his pretty smile she was sure had other girls swooning, “You’re a saint. A real saint.”

The thin line of frazzled nerves that he was sawing away at was about to snap, but she decided to play his game. Not like she had been given an actual choice in the matter. “And why is that, Jason?” She refused to call him by some nickname that his friends usually used— they weren’t friends and she wasn’t going to appease his feelings by pretending otherwise. She wasn’t even looking his way as she moved forward in line.

“Tutoring that freak.”

At that moment, Y/N swore she could see red. His friends were howling with laughter, he himself seemed smug with his insulting joke. She couldn’t take another step forward as she processed what he said, and each time it played over in her mind, the angrier she got.

“What?” By now the line had moved up more and Jason was pushing at her back, but she was a brick wall and she wasn’t moving. Not until he repeated what he had said, not until she knew she had heard him right.

“Oh, c’mon. It’s not like he can pay you. You’re doin’ it pro-bono right? You’re a saint. I guess even devil worshippers need to graduate.” Not only had she heard him right, but he was only making matters worse. She didn’t pay much mind to the students behind her once again complaining about how she needed to move or Jason trying once more to push her body forward.

He had successfully sawed her nerves away. She was now hurtling towards the pit of anger, happily so. Anger beat sadness, and she was about to beat him.

“Go fuck yourself, Jason,” was the first thought she had to say, one she had been dying to get out since she first realized what he had been spreading about her. His eyes went wide at the sudden quip and his friends started letting out low “ooh”s.

“You can’t talk to me..”

“I can talk to you however I want to. But God knows from your essays that you probably won’t understand anything I say. So let me spell it out for you,” she started, feeling as if the world around her was shaking, and yet it was only her body as rage coursed through her. “We are not friends. We did not sleep together- I would never sleep with someone like you…”

His hands threw up in defense as he took another step back, away from the step Y/N hadn’t known she had taken forward, “Whoa. I never said we slept together, dude.”

The interruption was enough to make her jab a pointed finger into his chest, sending him another step back. “Don’t you dare interrupt me. I am talking. Eddie Munson is /not/ a freak. He is a better man than you could even dream of being. I am not tutoring him. And you can shove your money right up your-”, she didn’t get the chance to finish her rampage before someone was grabbing her around the waist, pulling her away from a red faced Jason Carver.

“Put me down! I said put me down, asshole!” She yelled, not caring how her voice bounced off the walls, or how everyone in the cafeteria was staring at her like she had lost her mind. Maybe she had, but she didn’t care much about that either.

“I know I’ve made some mistakes but I don’t think name calling is necessary.” It took a moment before she could pinpoint that voice in the midst of her anger but once she did, she thrashed harder in his arms. She felt like a dog backed into a corner, no matter where she ran, she was met with people who pissed her off.

And a corner is exactly where she found herself as Eddie deposited her in a janitors closet, shutting the door behind them. It was dark for only a second before the dim light filled about half of the room. Dirty mops, cans of antiseptic spray, cobwebs, and a very amused Eddie stared back at her as she looked around.

The second his lips pulled up in a smirk, she exploded, “Why would you do that? I was-“

“You was’ going to get yourself expelled.”

“Stop interrupting me!” She flung her arms up in exasperation, seething at her sentence being cut off once again. Though when her fingers made contact with metal shelves and brick walls, she was quick to gasp and pull them back into her chest.

Much to his credit, Eddie hadn’t even flinched during her yelling, he had simply leaned against the opposite wall, watching with the ever-amused smile and raised eyebrow. He even shook his head with a chuckle as she nursed her now stinging hands.

“Let me see,” he started, inching forward with a hand outstretched to her. His rings didn’t glint as much in this light but she could tell he was still wearing the one she gave him. Tucking her hands closer into her chest, she shook her head. Her anger gave way to stubbornness, nostrils flaring with each deep breath and her chin lifting up to give some semblance of strength. Much to her chagrin, it only amused him more.

“Come on, sweetheart. Just let me see.” At the pet name, she froze for a moment, thinking back to all the times he had called her that before. Eddie wasn’t big on cliche pet names, he liked to create his own for her. Though sweetheart was a personal favorite of hers, so he had a tendency to use it on her. It always worked for getting her attention and making her feel more comforted and loved. Even now, even while dealing with a hundred different thoughts, that one word was like a bridge straight to her heart.

Without a word, but with a dramatic huff, she held out her hands, letting him see the damage for himself. He was very gentle when taking her hands into his, the warmth of his rings pressing into her skin like a beacon from home. His fingertips gracefully traced over the little red marks now marring her skin, like any sort of pressure would cause her to crack and fall apart.

The softness of the moment had entirely eradicated her anger and she was left with an ache where it once was. With her hands still held in his, she couldn’t fiddle with her fingers in nervousness, and when she tried to pull them away, he tightened his hold. Yet it was nothing compared to the way Jason’s hand had been firmly nudging her at lunch or how he held her wrist. It was like Eddie had found the next greatest DND figurine, used and a bit worn, but beautiful, ethereal, sacred. Something he was meant to protect— and he had failed doing so. But now he was making up for it.

His lips pressed against the red marks before she could question him, his forehead resting against her wrist as he just stood there, not saying anything, but not needing to. The amusement from earlier was long gone and was replaced with something Y/N couldn’t quite place.

Her lips parted for a moment as she thought over what to say: ‘I’m fine”, “We should go”, “Thanks for stopping me from getting expelled but god I wish I could have decked Jason just once’?

What came out was something entirely different: a whisper of his name. Saying it any louder would have broken whatever spell had been placed over them, and she didn’t know that she had it in her to do so. Or if she could even raise her voice again- she was so tired of yelling, of trying to be heard and listened to.

“Please,” was all he said in return, his voice just as low as hers. He finally dropped her hands but it was only so he could wrap his arms around her waist, tugging her into his chest; into a hug that she had yearned for since last week; into the arms she never thought she’d feel herself in again.

Vulnerability. That was the new feeling, what had replaced his amusement. The room was warm but the goosebumps on her skin still arose, her heart raced like she had run a mile and yet she was standing still, time felt like it had reversed a few weeks to when they were still together, when they were still Y/N and Eddie. And yet, it was still the same day, same hour, and the same broken up situation.

“Eddie…” she repeated his name, feeling his hair tickle her lips as they moved, smelling his cologne sneaking into her nose, and hearing the way he took his own shuddering breath, terrified of what the next steps would bring.

A few seconds later, Y/N found herself back in her own space, Eddie standing against the wall like he had been moments before, “I know you didn’t sleep with Jason.”

Even though the anger had long since disappeared, she still felt snarky as she shot back, “Oh, really? News to me.”

The smile he gave back was one of mock amusement, one of barely concealed pain, “I deserve that. I… I don’t know why I didn’t talk to you about it. I’m sorry.” He was pushing away from the wall in a flash, pacing the short width he was given as he raked his fingers through his hair, his face scrunched up in a look of concentration and anxiety.

“Sorry doesn’t-“

“I know, sorry doesn’t cut it. I /know/ that, Y/N. Why do you think it’s taken me so long to approach you? I had to do better than that. I had to think of more than ‘I’m sorry.’” He rushed out, not caring that he had interrupted her again. He just had to get it out of his brain before he lost it, before he became a stumbling, stuttering mess and wasn’t able to fix things.

“I still don’t have anything. Because nothing will magically sweep this away. I can’t roll dice and overcome this. But seeing you today in there with him, I knew I had to step in. And I’m sorry.” He rattled off, finally coming to a stop as he looked down at her, looking like a puppy who had just been kicked or left on the side of the road, searching desperately for its home. And even though he didn’t say it, Y/N was his home.

She couldn’t continue staring into his eyes when he looked like that, all she wanted to do was to grab him back into her arms and never let go. So she looked down, she folded her arms over her chest and she looked anywhere but him, anywhere but where she really wanted to look. “Why did you believe it?”

His laugh was dry, humorless, and forced. It was so unlike his normal behavior around her that her heart ached. “I didn’t. Well, I didn’t want to. I came back to the lunchroom that day and I saw you sitting there, him whispering in your ear. And then him again at your locker. And every time, I could just hear him telling his friends how he kissed you in payment for tutoring. I felt.. I felt. Pissed off. Hurt. Like the runt in a family of giants. Or a magicless spell caster. I can’t blame you if you wanted to be with someone like him.” The moment he started speaking in DND terms, she snorted. That was more like the Eddie she knew, the one she missed. This made him halt in his tangent as he looked at her, clearly confused and worried about her laughter.

“Jason Carver paid me in cash. Extra cash, actually. He stayed across the table at all times, he didn’t ever touch me. I wouldn’t have let him. I wouldn’t have let anyone who wasn’t you touch me. If you’re a magicless spell caster than Jason is.. is a tree stump.” She was never good with DND terms, but she was trying to get through to him in any way she could.

Her words seemed to only make him feel worse as he threw his head back in a groan, hands dragging down his face roughly. His rings left momentary red streaks on his skin. “I know that, too. I’m just a dumbass and I ruined it, didn’t I? I can’t make this better.”

Hearing him so down on himself had Y/N pausing, watching him with a studious eye, analyzing everything he did. His face had returned to the normal color, though his eyes were still wide and pleading. His hair was a mess from being tugged at so much from his own hands. He was fumbling with his rings again as he anxiously awaited her response. His body was wound so tight, she was sure he was going to spring apart in a seconds notice.

Now it was Y/N’s turn to inch forward, hands outstretched slightly, “I wouldn’t say you ruined things but,” she started, watching as his head snapped around so fast she was sure she heard a crack, “it will take time to get back to how we were. You have to work on trusting me, Eddie. Relationships can’t work without trust.”

“I do trust…,” at her look, he trailed off, nodding his head again, this time much slower than before. Maybe she really had heard a crack earlier and now he was feeling the consequences. “Okay, okay, yeah. I’ll work on it. I promise.”

“And promise me that you won’t listen to bullshit rumors without talking to me?” She asked, feeling his hands snake into hers, fingertips tapping against the inside of her wrist, like he was waiting for the go ahead sign to fully grab her hand.

“I promise, I swear.”

In the beat of silence that spread between them, Y/N felt her heart building up hope again. The strings she thought she left back in the drama room were wrapping around the beating organ with a new found excitement, the cracks starting to form together once more. There was work to be done, yes, but she truly believed it was going to be okay.

“Okay,” she murmured more to herself, testing it out, feeling how her heart soared at her acceptance, “yeah, okay. We can work on it.”

That must have been the sign he was needing because he was soon pulling her back into his arms, forehead connecting with hers with a little more force than intended. Neither commented on the slight bump, both entirely caught up in being back in each other’s arms, no fight or rumor or dumb jock standing between them.

The shadows from the dim light cast deep shadows over Eddie’s face, making his eyes seem darker than normal. It had Y/N’s stomach flipping in nerves. Who would’ve thought that only a few days apart could have her feeling like she was about to have her first kiss again?

Who would’ve also thought that right when everything was about to be made right again, they would be interrupted? Not them, for sure.

But here they were, the lighting from the hall now creeping into their little hiding spot and a familiar redhead standing with her hand on the knob.

“Oh,” she started to turn away but soon turned back, like leaving without an explanation was more awkward than speaking, “Dustin told me what happened in the lunchroom and I wanted to check on you. But, I see everything’s good. Great. Okay.” Pointing at them like a finger gun, Max went to shut the door once more. The shadows that had been starting to crowd around the couple again were soon chased away, though, as she pulled the door back open.

“Max!” Y/N laughed, part of her finding her new friend’s insistence and indecisiveness funny, but another part wanting to kiss Eddie and hide away in their bubble for a short while longer.

“Sorry, sorry! Just sayin’. Eddie, don’t be a dick next time, understand?” With her headphones hanging off her neck, red hair pulled back in a low pony, and her eyes narrowed on Eddie’s figure, Y/N had no doubt Max could and would have some choice words with him next time around. When Eddie just laughed, Max pursed her lips and leaned her head closer, refusing to leave until he said it.

Taking the hint, he curtly nodded his head towards her, “Understood.”

Seeming satisfied with his answer, she briefly turned her attention back to Y/N with a teasing smile, “Don’t forget, you promised me more ice cream after school.”

Finally, with the door swinging shut and the noise from the hallway being muffled, Y/N turned to Eddie with a shy smile, remembering key components of her time as a single woman.

“Eddie, I have to tell you something.” Her teeth dug into her bottom lip as she felt him pull away, just enough to fully look at her face. “I kind of spent half of my savings buying me and Max ice cream.”

Instead of responding like she had expected, Eddie laughed. It wasn’t like the dry one from earlier; this was filled with happiness, humor, and maybe a hint of teasing.

“I was a…” whatever she was going to say was cut off as his lips pressed against hers, his arms tightening around her waist as he held her close. Every thought, every word, every syllable left her brain as she clung to him, fingers tangling in his hair, back bent slightly as he leaned over her, not an inch of space between their bodies.

It was perfect, Y/N swore she could see clouds and Cupid himself flying around them. Bright light shone down on them like the heavens approved of this match.

Well, that was what she was choosing to believe as the principal led them into the bright hallway, students all around whispering and pointing at the couple with messy hair, puffy lips, and intertwined hands.

There would be rumors of this, Y/N was sure. ‘Eddie Munson and Y/N Y/L/N caught making out in a broom closet!’ But it was a rumor that she was actually looking forward to hearing spread around— because it was absolutely correct.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

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#eddie x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fics #eddie munson fic #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson love #eddie munson #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic

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cafedanslanuit · 1 year

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i think i got an ex but i forgot him + isagi, bachira, chigiri, kunigami, sae, rin, reo & nagi

♡ — tags/warnings: gn reader + no pronouns, a bit of drama because the topic is exes after all but it's not angst, pettiness, jealousy, slightly unhealthy coping mechanisms but nothing too tw

♡ — a/n: aaaaa this is my first blue lock hcs, i think! i was going to post another one first but this came to me suddenly so here you go <3 hope u enjoy it!

♡ — masterlist

ISAGI ― i... im sorry but he’s the type to ask you to reconsider the break up, whether it ended badly or not, no matter who was in the wrong. you see, he has a plan on how you can really make it work this time around! it only works if you carefully follow these steps and new guidelines, of course. worse part is it actually makes sense, and you could foresee a better relationship you got along with his plan. he's pretty convincing so you might take him up on that idea. however, if you don’t, he will accept it and try his best to move on, which is focusing intensely on his training to try to keep his mind away from you.

BACHIRA ― tries to be friends. just because the relationship didn't work out, it doesn't mean you can't still spend time together as friends, right? friends go on dates sometimes, all friendly, of course! nothing wrong with a couple of friends staying in for a movie night, cuddling, or sharing dessert in a nice little cafe. if he takes your hand, it’s only out of security, so please don’t think he has any ulterior motives! …anyway, it takes him some time to adjust to the new reality of your relationship but still, he will try his best to support you as much as he did when he was your boyfriend. if it ended badly, he'll still try to be as friendly as possible, but a couple of snarky remarks may fall from his lips without him being able to do anything about it.

KUNIGAMI ― he’s very respectful about the whole ordeal. after everything is said and done, he texts you a couple of times days later, genuinely asking how you're doing and it’s very clear he cares about your answer. if you need anything from him, he will offer his help, no questions asked and no retribution needed. after all, he still cares about you, even if it didn’t work out between you too. if the relationship ended badly, he will still be very respectful towards you but try his best to avoid you. a nod and a greeting is all you will get because, soon enough, he will pretend someone is calling him and he’ll go his own way.

CHIGIRI ― for a good couple of months, he’s going to be very uncomfortable around you. what haunts him the most is how difficult it is to get used to the change of dynamics between the two of you; now he’s not sure on how to act or what he’s allowed or not allowed to say anymore. if it ended badly, it's very likely you'll be on the receiving end of some ill quips and snarky comments about you, hitting you just where it hurts. he'll deliver them with the most unamused face, his eyebrow slightly raising as he waits-- no, as he almost invites you to take him on the fight. and if you do, be ready to lose.

SAE ― the moment you decide to call it quits, he completely walks out of your life. from that moment on, you won't hear from him ever again. doesn't matter how fast you check your phone after you've said your goodbyes, you're blocked on all social media platforms, both public and private. to make things worse, your shared google photos album is gone and you're even banned on the official *team* account. hell, he’ll even report the photos of the two of you together so they’re taken down from your account too. doesn't matter if it ended on good and bad terms, only time you'll ever see him again is on a promotional ad for his soccer team on the street or something alike. if he’s asked about you on interviews, he’ll only say it’s not “relevant” and ask for the next question.

RIN ― like his brother, he doesn't take it well either. he's the type to go through your social media at least once a day to see if you posted anything new, and if there's any nrw information he can get from it. so far, he's learnt you've been going out clubbing more often and that you've had a pizza date with one of your friends. he recognized them because on the photo, he could see they were wearing a ring, same ring that shows up on a photo of you too circa 2015. if you have an anonymous questions social media, he miiiight ask you on anon why did you break up with him. only for fun, it's not like he truly cares about your life, evidently. all of this happens while he ignores your greetings in person, feigning he doesn't hear you. you'd never catch him yearning to have you back, and he's gonna make sure of that.

REO ― new year, new model, baby. the best way to get over someone is to get someone else-- at least for him. he might’ve begged you for another chance at first, but once you make him understand you’re truly done, he lets his petty side come out. a couple of days after your final talk, you will have a front-row seat to mysterious instagram stories featuring two drinks, another one with two movie tickets and, of course, a photo taken from the passenger seat of himself driving one of his fancier cars. the way his forearms flex underneath his expensive shirt really gives the photo the edge it needed. but, is he truly dating someone else? probably not. but he’s going to spend every resource he had to make you think he’s replaced you. even if this may all seem unnecesarily mean, he's also the quickest to agree if you ever want to try again. whisper sweet words close to his ear and he's back to his righteous place by your side in no time.

NAGI ― it’s heartbreaking how he acts like he couldn’t care less about your breakup. it seems like the heart-to-heart conversation that ended in you sobbing against his chest while he stroke your back in silence never happened, because when you see him a couple of days later, he raises a hand and greets you, just like he would any other day. to nagi, he’s taken the best decision and is acting the best in an already shitty situation, whether the breakup was amicable or not. he really doesn't want to waste his time in pettiness and resentment, especially after getting to love you for as long as he did. however, his actions may unadventerly hurt you and give you a false image on what’s going on in his heart.

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specialagentlokitty · 11 months

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Derek hale x Sister!reader - my sister

Hi so this is the request I try to send you before through the inbox. I wanted to know if you could write a Derek Hale x big sister reader where the reader is very very protective like almost overprotective of him ( he could be her anchor )and I wanted to see how the whole pack would react to that because everyone know that Derek can take care of himself and also that he's very strong, they don't really understand why the reader is so protective over him and then someone explain why she so protectives over him ( it could be Chris, Peter, Noah or even Deaton) and that since the fire it got a little bit more worse. Please, I love how you write the siblings bond that I read on your blog. Sorry it's very long - @bakakara666💜

Looking at your little brother come limping into the loft, you pointed to the couch and he sat down, watching as you wondered away.

Everyone else filed in behind Derek, Scott a little injured but nowhere near as bad as Derek was, and they watched as you came back over.

You dragged the coffee table over and sat in front of Derek, taking his arm in yours as you wordlessly tended to his wounds.

“Doesn’t he know how to do that himself…?” Stiles whispered.

“Of course he does idiot.” Peter hissed.

Peter looked at you carefully tending to your brothers wounds and he sighed softly.

“Then why is (Y/N) doing it?” Lydia asked.

You glared at them all, and Peter ushered the into a different part of the loft while you carried on helping your brother.

“What happened?” You asked.

“Hunters, nothing serious don’t worry.”

You nodded your head very slowly, and began to clean the wounds on his other arm.

“How’s your side?” You asked.

“Healing, it should be mostly healed now.” He said.

You nodded again.

Derek looked down at you, your tired eyes focusing carefully on what you were doing and he sighed a little bit.

“You don’t have to do this.” He said.

“Yes I do.”

Derek reached up, grabbing your wrist in his hand and stopped you, forcing you to turn your attention up to him.

“You don’t. It’ll heal.”

“I have to do this Derek.”

You both stared at one another for a few moments before he slowly let go of your wrist, letting you go back to looking after him.

“Are they still alive?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

You tossed everything into a bag and set it aside, standing up, you began to walk towards the door.

“(Y/N) don’t!”

Everyone else came out of the room to see you standing in front of the doors to the loft, yellow eyes fixated on the door.

“(Y/N).” Peter warned.

You glared at him.

“Leave it, they’re not worth it.” Derek said.

You slowly turned around, your yellow eyes staring into his blue ones.

“They hurt you. That’s all the do. Hurt.” You growled.

“And we handled it they’re not coming back. It’s fine.”

Derek walked over and he placed his hand on your shoulder.

“Don’t do it…” he whispered.

Gazing at your brother, you sighed, letting your eyes return to normal as you nodded and walked away to properly clean up.

Derek sighed heavily as he looked at you.

“What would she have done…?” Alison whispered.

“She would’ve ripped every hunter she came across to bits without thinking twice about it.” Derek said.

“So she’s dangerous? Great!” Stiles scoffed.

Derek turned around, grabbing stiles by the shirt and pulled him of his feet a little bit while everyone called for him to stop.

“My sister is not dangerous.” Derek growled.

He dropped stiles, shoving him back a few steps.

“Don’t ever call her that again.”

With that, Derek stormed away and when you noticed you went after him, calling his name.

Stile turned to Peter.

“What the hell is his problem?” Stiles asked.

Peter glared at Stiles.

“He doesn’t have a problem you called his sister, by niece, dangerous of course he’s going to be pissed.”

“Why is (Y/N) so protective of Derek?” Lydia asked.

Peter glanced towards the stairs then gestured to the couch, so everyone went to sit down and he stood in front of them all, arms crossed over his chest.

Upstairs you were sat with Derek, your hand in his as you both just sat silently.

“She’s always been protective of him. Older than him by 5 years, (Y/N) always felt the need to look after Derek. If he fell, she was there, scared, upset, angry she was right there for it all.”

Peter sat down on the table like you did.

“They were incredibly close. After the fire she became more protective, she had lost everyone aside from him.”

Peter glanced to the stairs again before looking at them.

“Derek is protective of her, sure. But she would bring this whole town to its knees if she had to just to keep him safe. (Y/N) can’t loose anymore of her family, it would tear her apart.”

Everyone nodded their heads.

“That’s why she was going to go find those hunters, right?” Scott asked.

“Exactly, she’d have killed them if Derek hadn’t stopped her. He’s the only one who can keep her temper in check, so remember that when you’re trying to get him arrested again.”

You stood up, placing your hand on Derek’s shoulder as you turned around to look at him.

“You’re okay, right?” You asked.

“I’m fine, I promise. Don’t worry about it’s nothing.”

You nodded your head a little and walked over to the window to look outside.

“Next time I’m coming with you.”

Derek glanced at you and said nothing about it because he knew he wasn’t going to be able to stop you.

If you wanted to go you would, and he knew there was absolutely no way that he could stop you from doing it, all he could do was stop you from trying to kill anyone who hurt him

#teen wolf imagine #teen wolf #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf x you #teen wolf x y/n #Derek hale #derek hale x reader #derek hale x y/n #Derek hale x you #Derek hale imagine

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sturnioloshacker · 5 months

Text

fight reconciliation - a matt sturniolo short

a/n: requested by anon; lowercase intended

cw: angst with a fluffy ending

summary: a heated fight between you and matt gets even more heated when the youngest gets involved until the oldest steps in to resolve everything

tension hung thick and low in the air as matt and his girlfriend y/n engaged in a heated argument, where harsh words were exchanged, cutting deeper than they intended. matt, adding a bit more fuel to the fire, which was caused by his anger, lashed out at his girlfriend with hurtful remarks that left her stunned and heartbroken.

“matthew? do you really mean that?”, the poor girl whispered, unable to move an inch without collapsing in tears.

chris, unable to stand by any longer, clenched his fists, ready to intervene.

“matt, what is wrong with you? that’s your girlfriend, you idiot! you just broke your girl’s heart and you think i’m going to accept that?! well think again, buddy!” chris yells at his older brother who’s just standing there like nothing even happened.

chris is about to swing at matt’s head when nick steps in between his two younger brothers, shoving them away from each other so that they’re on two different sides of the room. meanwhile, y/n is nowhere to be found. instead, she’s upstairs, crying her eyes out over her boyfriend’s hateful words that he had no remorse over.

“guys, let’s cool off before things escalate.” nick demands.

the two brothers go their separate ways, but not before chris attempts to swing at matt again, hoping to knock some sense into his older brother’s brain. nick screams in fear and firmly grips chris’s fist with his hand, pushing him back onto the couch, letting matt go upstairs.

“this isn’t the way to solve things around here! chris, you stay here. matt, you better go and find your girl and apologise to her for your words because i’m not losing my best friend because of you, you fucking asshole!” nick yells to the two of them.

matt trudges upstairs, his head hanging down in shame. he finally came to the realisation that he potentially lose the love of his life and the love and support of his older brother. knocking on every door of the house, matt tries to find y/n. hearing a broken sob from his room, he heads upstairs and knocks on the door.

“come in, nick.” she softly says through sniffles.

matt walks in and y/n immediately turns away from him.

“oh, it’s you. i thought you said you don’t love me anymore and that you don’t want to be in a relationship with me anymore.”

“sweetheart, i’m so fucking sorry, okay? it was in the heat of the moment. i don’t even know why we were arguing in the first place. i didn’t mean for those words to leave my mouth. it was stupid of me and i’m so, so, so fucking sorry. i understand if you need some space and some time to think so i’ll leave you alone.” matt explains, tears threatening to fall from his bright blue eyes.

“matt, wait. i forgive you. now please stay, i need you.”

“oh thank god, cause i need you too.”

the two lovers both wrap up in each other’s arms, tears falling down their cheeks and onto their shirts. they stay like this for a while before matt cups y/n’s cheeks and bringing her in for a sweet, loving and tender kiss that sends the girl into more tears. the kiss lasts for a good while as they make up, matt’s arms wrapped around his girl’s waist and y/n’s arms wrapped around the boy’s neck, fingers dancing through his luscious locks.

#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo angst #matt sturniolo fluff #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets imagine #sturniolo triplets fanfic #sturniolo triplets angst #sturniolo triplets fluff

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resident-gay-bitch · 3 months

Text

Regulus’ heart breaks as he stands there, just behind the willow tree, watching James and Sirius roll around on the grass, play fighting in their own little world.

Of course he left him. Of course James would pick Sirius over Regulus, wouldn’t everyone? Regulus has never been picked first. Not once.

Not by his parents, who ignored him throughout his entire childhood to focus on framing Sirius as the perfect son and heir.

Not by Sirius, who ran away, picking James to be his brother and not bothering to ask Regulus to tag along.

Not in team games, where students would pick through the class one by one, and Regulus would be one of the last few standing.

Not by his friends, who all would chose their partners, or the other people in the group first. He joined last, it’s only fair.

Not even by the lizard who inhabits his dorm room, who picks the three other boys to crawl over to first, every time.

And certainly not by James.

He thought, for once, the cycle might be broken. He thought, for once, someone would pick him first. He’d get chosen over someone else, just once.

He should have known better.

He should have known that the moment Sirius found out about he and James sneaking around in dark corridors and whispering sweet words to each other, James would have to pick.

He was foolish to think James would pick him over Sirius. He was foolish to think that James would pick him over anyone.

And as Lily, with her fiery red hair pulled back into braids, comes marching over to the boys, snatching James up by his collar and earning herself a cheek kiss, Regulus realises he should have seen that coming too.

Not even two weeks has passed since Regulus placed second to his brother, as he does in fucking everything, and James has already moved on.

Regulus would never be anyone’s first choice, he should have known better.

He knows better now.

It’s not until three months later that Regulus finally shatters from it. The crushing weight of never being enough, never being someone’s first choice.

It’s Slytherin against Ravenclaw for the quidditch cup, and there in the crowd, he spots his brother and James.

They’re decked out in silver and blue, and they don’t look at Regulus, not even once.

Barty finds him in the showers, once the entire teams cleared out. He’s dressed in a confusing mix of blue and green, for his own house and his friends.

Hes crying. Regulus doesn’t think he’s ever cried this hard before. The water is pouring down over his head, and he’s still fully dressed in his uniform.

Slytherin lost. He lost them the match, because he was more focused on trying to catch James or Sirius looking his way just once than getting the snitch. They didn’t, and he lost.

Barty clearly doesn’t know how to handle this. The lowest he’s ever seen Regulus would have been prior to an exam he stressed himself out about. Besides, Barty has always been a little awkward when handling emotions.

Regulus tries to tell him to leave him be, he really does. But his words get all chocked up in his throat and he can’t get out much more than a wail or a sob. It fucking hurts.

“What’s the matter, Black?” Barty asks, switching the water off before crouching down in front of him, “What’s got your knickers in a twist, hey?”

“I-I’ll never be… good enough.” Regulus confesses. He’s never said it out loud before. He’s not a vulnerable person, he doesn’t do this. He knows better than to let out his sob story to someone, they can hold it over him one day. But he can’t help himself, he finds. He needs to get it off his chest before it rips him open, “I’ll never… b-be enough.”

Barty’s silent for a while, clearly unsure of what to say. It only makes Regulus sob more. He pulls his knees up to his chest and hides his head in his hand, and he fucking cries. He’s sure if anyone’s still out side, they’d hear it, but Barty locked the door when he came in. At least that’s something.

“I can never be enough.” Regulus sobs again, and this time Barty kicks into action.

He’s still awkward about it, Regulus can tell, he probably has better things to do than listen to Regulus cry as well, which only makes this worse. He pushes Regulus’ sopping hair out of his face and pats his face dry with the end of his Slytherin scarf before hauling them both to their feet.

“Who told ya that?” Barty asks, pulling his wand out to try his hand at a drying spell. It mostly works, so Regulus can’t complain.

“I don’t have to be told something to know it, Barty.” Regulus sniffles, wiping his eyes. They sting, and he knows he looks terrible, but there’s no use in worrying about that now.

“Well… I think, if you haven’t been told, it can’t be true.” Barty shrugs, tucking his wand back in his pocket.

“Fine.” Regulus nods, “My entire fucking family has told me then, on several occasions.”

“Oh.” Barty stills, and he has a look on his face of utter confusion.

Regulus shakes his head and goes to walk for the door, but he winces when he puts pressure on his ankle. He fell on it weirdly, midway through the match when he was knocked off his broom. It didn’t bother him before, but it does now.

“You hurt?” Barty asks, and Regulus nods.

Silently, Barty reaches out and wraps his arm around Regulus’ waist. He flinches at first, startled by the slightly intimate touch, but then Barty pulls Regulus to shift his weight, and he relaxes into it a little. Together, they walk back across the field, Barty carrying Regulus’ broom, and half of Regulus’ weight, and make their way back to the castle.

It’s oddly silent.

It’s always quiet, between them. Regulus isn’t much of a talker, and when Barty runs out of stupid things to say he goes quiet and people watches. He usually watches Regulus, since they’re always together, something that took a while to get used to. Barty really likes to watch Regulus read, it makes him a little self conscious of any strange expressions he might be making.

But it’s a strange sort of quiet now. It’s silent. Regulus isn’t talking, not because he doesn’t want to, but because he feels ashamed for breaking down like that. He doesn’t just break down. Men don’t fucking break down. Especially not in front of people like that. He feels embarrassed that Barty found him.

Well, he’s grateful it was Barty over anyone else, seeing as though they’re supposed to be close friends, Merlin forbid Sirius found him. But it’s still uncomfortable.

The only friend any of them have that likes to talk about feelings is Pandora. Regulus assumed this was because she was a girl, at first, however, Dorcas doesn’t like talking about them either. Pandoras just strange like that, she cares about people in odd ways. Sometimes it’s nice, but mostly it’s terrifying.

Barty looks like he wants to talk. He also looks like he wants to watch Regulus, but every time he turns his head to do so he probably sees the red rimming of Regulus’ eyes and finds something much uglier than usual. It only makes Regulus feel all the more ashamed.

Barty starts whistling. It’s not his regular noise filling whistles either, it’s his uncomfortable whistling. He doesn’t want to be here, Regulus can tell. Merlin, he needs to get away.

“Going back to your dorm?” Barty asks as they round a corridor in the castle.

Regulus nods, “Is Evan-“

“He’s there.” Barty says, “Cas too… dunno about Dora, she’s always off with the fairies. If she’s not hugging Dorcas about their loss then I dunno where she is.”

Regulus goes tense, “I don’t want them to see me.”

Barty stops and swallows, “Okay… how about my dorm then? My roommates are all down by the lake. They snagged some firewhisky.”

“Okay.” Regulus agrees, because he has no where else to go.

Once settled in Barty’s dorm, Regulus changes into more comfortable clothes. Plaid pyjama pants and a green knitted sweater he knows is his own that went “missing” last year. He doesn’t question it, Barty’s strange like that. He likes to collect things, and especially Regulus’ things.

They’re both sitting on his bed, Regulus tucked up under the covers and Barty sitting on the other end. He’s flipping through one of his dorm mates magazines and whistling to himself, his regular whistling again. It calms Regulus a bit.

Lying there, stuck with his own thoughts, he can’t hide from the images that pop into his mind every time he closes his eyes. All of Sirius and James, all of them examples where Regulus placed last.

There’s so many it’s hard to filter out which ones are new and which ones are old.

They all hurt just the same.

“Whatcha crying about now?” Barty asks, looking over at Regulus. He didn’t even realise he was crying again, but he is. “Did I do something wrong? I’ll fix it, whatever. Get ya whatever you need, promise.”

“You didn’t do anything.” Regulus sniffles, rolling onto his back to look up at the ceiling. Barty’s stuck posters up there, muggle ones of girls on motorcycles and punk bands, just to piss off his dad. “I’m just…”

“Go on.” Barty asks, sitting up now, cross legged and attentive. “There’s no one here, just me. Promise I’ll never tell.”

Regulus sighs and fiddles with his fingers, “I don’t need your pity, Barty. I’ve survived this long, I can survive some more.”

“Yeah, but you’re crying.” He says, and Regulus glares at him. “What? I ain’t seen you cry before, it’s weird. I know it’s really gotta be botherin ya if you’re crying like this. What would Dora say?”

“She’d probably try to hug me and make me cry more.” Regulus offers.

“Do you want… me to- uhm, hug you?”

“No.” Regulus glares at him. “I don’t want your pity, I said.”

“It’s not my pity, Regulus!” Barty splutters, “It’s a bloody hug. Dora says there really good for ya! I love her hugs, you know. Get ‘em all the time. I- I know I’m no Pandora but… I mean, I can offer ya a real bony one.”

Regulus snickers and looks back up at the roof, “No thanks. That’s weird.”

“Is it?” Barty asks, “Cause… cause I’ve been listening to what she’s sayin and… I think it would be nice.”

“If I hugged you right now?” Regulus raised an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah… and other times.” Barty shrugged, “I dunno, might be dumb but… we’re supposed to be friends, ya know? Friends hug. Cas hates ‘em, unless they’re from Dora, but Evan and I hug sometimes.”

“You’re being weird.”

“I’m not trying to.” Barty frowned, “I just… I care about you, I suppose.”

Regulus swallowed. The only person who’s said that before has been Pandora, but she cares about everyone.

Barty… well, he doesn’t care about much at all. He cares about so little, that Regulus thought the only thing he probably cared about was pissing off his dad and Pandora herself. But apparently that’s not true.

Regulus doesn’t want to believe it. He doesn’t want to hurt himself by believing that he could be one of the very few things Barty has come to care about.

But they’re friends, and Barty watches him a lot, and collects Regulus’ things, and helps him when he cries, and offers to hug him.

Now Regulus is crying for a whole other reason.

“One hug?” Barty offers, sticking out his arms, “I’ll make it so quick and if you hate it we don’t ever have to do it again.”

Regulus contemplates it. He doesn’t remember the last time he was hugged.

He knows the last good one was Pandora, maybe last year, when they were leaving for summer. Quick and carefree. The last bad one, that was James. Not that it was bad at the time, but it hurts to think about now. It was false stability and ended in heartbreak. The last time he was hugged to be soothed though? His mind takes him back to Sirius, when they were still little.

“Fine.” Regulus mutters, sitting up under the covers, “But make it quick.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Barty nods and moves in, “Sorry if I’m uncomfortable.”

Regulus nods and sits very still as Barty wraps himself around Regulus’ shoulders. It’s awkward, to say the least. They’ve never done this before, and they’re going about it very strangely.

“Reg… you gotta relax a bit.”

“How am I supposed to relax when I have a boney man attached to me?”

Barty scoffs and squeezes him a little tighter, “Just put your head on my shoulder, orrite. Relax, just for a second.”

Regulus huffs but does it anyway. He leans his head over to rest on Barty’ shoulder and drops his own, and… oh, it’s nice. It’s actually really, really nice. Barty’s soothing his back, and twisting his finger around the end of Regulus’ hair. And it’s nice.

He can’t even feel Barty’s ribs poking him or anything. It’s really, really cosy.

Regulus pushes him away, wiping his tears.

Barty gives him a guilty smile, “Terrible?”

“No.” Regulus sniffles, “It was actually grossly nice.”

Barty snickers and nods his head, “Well, if you ever need another hug, I’ll give ya as many as ya kneed.”

“Thanks.”

“No problems, Black.”

Regulus fiddles with the ends of his sleeve, refusing to look up at Barty, who he knows is sitting there and staring. He’s so quiet, when he stares. It’s as if any noise Barty makes would ruin his ability to set his full attention solely on Regulus.

It’s so strange. He’s so strange.

“You can’t tell anyone.” Regulus mumbles.

“What, that we hugged?” Barty laughs.

“No.” He scoffs, “What I said before, wanker. In the showers.”

“Oh.” Barty nods, “Well, I wasn’t gonna anyway. Course not, Reg. I know you. I know you hate people knowing your business.”

Regulus nods, “You really wouldn’t have told anyone? Not even Dora?”

“Cross my heart.” Barty smiles, doing just that, “I know she’s my best friend, but you are too. It means something, you know?”

“Oh.” Regulus mumbles.

Barty can only laugh at him, and Regulus turns a little pink.

“Can I… no, don’t worry about it.”

“No, go on.” Barty offers, “It’s just you and me.”

Regulus sighs, “I just… I’m tired of not being good enough, Barty.”

“I dunno what you mean, Black. You’re bloody brilliant.” Barty says, flopping down on his back like a starfish, “You shoulda been in Ravenclaw with your smarts, and not to mention your skills as a seeker. You’re top of the class, Reggie, course you’re good enough.”

Regulus thinks Barty will never understand how much that singular sentence fucking means to him, even if he tries to explain it. It stings, how good it feels to hear it. He never has. Not once.

“Not just in school, Barty. Everywhere else.” Regulus mumbles, wiping his teary eyes. They’re stinging again, and he really doesn’t want to cry, but he knows he will. It’s so stupid. “Everything else. I’m just…”

Barty rolls onto his side, propping his head up on his elbow to look at Regulus, “Like, with your family?”

Regulus nods, chewing on a hangnail.

“Yeah, I get that.” Barty sighs, “Is this about… those who must not be named?”

Regulus closes his eyes to compose himself, and nods again.

“Right.” Barty says, “Did Sirius do something? You know he barked at me the other day, like a fucking dog. So I’ll go hex him, happily, if you want?”

“No, Barty. Don’t.” Regulus shook his head, “He didn’t… I… they both just…”

“Go on.” Barty said softly, softer than Regulus has ever heard him speak before as he slowly sits up to get level with him.

“I’ll always be second best.” Regulus mutters, and then he starts crying again. Hot tears down his cheeks, redness in his eyes, stuttering over himself as he shakes.

“Oh, Reg…”

“He- he just picked James, over his own blood brother. Every time it’s James and… and I… and James just… I loved him. I loved him Barty, I was in love with him. I think part of me still is, but… he, he picked Sirius too. He picked Sirius, and Lily, because she’s just… she’s so pretty, and smart, and she’s got everything that I’ve got but, she’s just… she’s just so much better.” Regulus heaved, pressing a hand to his chest, “Everywhere, I see it everywhere. Not just with them, but mostly, I- I’ll never… I’ve never been someone’s first choice, Barty. Ever. And I don’t think I ever will be. No one picks me just because they can.”

His shoulders shake as he cries, his breath short and stuttered. When Barty reaches out in offer for another hug, Regulus falls forward into his arms, head pressed against his friends chest.

It feels so safe there, to be cradled in Barty’s arms, it’s warm. He cries a puddle through his sweater, but Barty doesn’t seem to mind.

“Shh, Reggie.” Barry sooths, lightly scratching his nails over Regulus’ back and sifting his fingers through his hair. “Just breathe, love. Just breathe.”

Regulus follows his command, taking deep breaths and timing them with the rise and fall of Barty’s chest beneath his head. He relaxes there, letting his eyes fall shut, and Barty continues to rub his back and play with his hair.

“I’m so tired.” Regulus mumbles through the last of his tears, “I’m going to fall asleep if you keep doing that.”

“That’s okay.” Barty laughs softly, “How about we lie down?”

“Isn’t that weird?” Regulus asks.

“Isn’t everything I do weird?”

Regulus shrugs and follows when Barty pulls him down to lay against the pillows. Barty slips under the covers with him, and pulls Regulus’ head against his chest again. Bartys heart is beating faster than it should be, but Regulus ignores it and wiggles around until he’s comfortable.

Once again, Barty strokes his back and scratches his scalp, and folds himself into Regulus a little.

He presses a little kiss to the top of Regulus’ head, and his heartbeat speeds up rapidly.

Regulus tenses, “Why is your heart beating like that, Barty? Are you okay? Did I make you uncomfortable?” He questions, already coming up with a million terrible reasons for it. He’s been so stupidly selfish about his own problems he didn’t even notice how uncomfortable he’s made his supposed best friend.

“No…” Barty half follows as Regulus sits up, leaning back on his elbows, “No, Reg. Obviously not.”

Regulus’ shoulders relax a little, “Well, then what is it?”

Barty looks away, “Come on, don’t tease, Reggie. I’m not in the mood.”

“I’m not teasing.” He shakes his head, “What’s the problem?”

“There’s no problem, obviously.” Barty snickers, “Come on, we can just… we can forget about it by tomorrow if it’s weird.

“What’s weird, Crouch?” Regulus pressed, “I don’t understand.”

Barty looked at him for a moment, eyebrows drawn together in the middle, and his mouth slowly fell open, “You don’t know?”

“Know what?” Regulus asked.

“About me…”

“About you… what?” Regulus shook his head.

“About…” Barty sighed, shaking his head in delirium. He laughed, at himself, mostly, which only confused Regulus more, “Everyone said it was obvious. I just thought we both… I thought we had an understanding. That we’d both ignore it and go on with our lives.”

“What the fuck are you talking about, Barty?” Regulus asked, shoving at his chest.

“Oi!” Barty snickered, “That I… well… I thought you knew you’d be my first choice for everything.”

Regulus froze, scowling at him for a moment, “Don’t tease-“

“Not teasing, Reggie.” Barty looked away, taking a short breath. “Look, if it’s… if it’s too weird, I get it. But, I’m okay pretending, if you want.”

“P-pretending?” Regulus whispered.

“Yeah.” He shrugged, sitting up and loosely hugging his knees, “Pretending I’m not in love with you.”

Regulus didn’t have an answer for that. He was truely wound speechless. Barty… loves him?

“I meant it… I’d pick- I’d pick you over everything else in this world. I really mean it, Reggie. I promise.” Barty mumbled, “You’re my first pick, always have been.”

Regulus’ heart stops in his chest for a moment. His throat hurts and his eyes sting again. Regulus doesn’t think he’s cried as much as he has today through his entire life, including when he was a baby.

He can’t help it, crying again. Because Regulus believes him. Barty’s always been devastatingly honest, even at the worst of times. So why would he lie about this? And he looks so earnest, sounds it too. He sounds like he really, truely means it.

No ones ever picked Regulus first, besides Barty Crouch Jr, who has a collection of Regulus’ things, and who stares at him unashamedly, and consoles Regulus when he cries even if it makes him uncomfortable.

And Regulus has been too self centred to ever notice.

But Barty is in love with him, and by the sounds of it he has been for a while. Apparently everyone knows it.

He thinks about it for a moment, while he sobs and cries and heaves. Barty does all that he can to soothe him, reaching out to wipe away tears, and hold him, and rub his arms and back.

Regulus doesn’t think he’s ever felt as safe as he doesn’t when he’s around Barty. Which is an odd thing to realise, because Barty is kind of a loose cannon. He’s violent, and angry, and snarky and rude. But with Regulus he’s always… well, he’s funny, and he can still be a little rude sometimes, but he’s also kind and generous and a little odd.

Regulus now realises all that oddness he’s noticed is just things Barty does that signals he’s in love with him. But Regulus has never noticed, he’s never looked to see how Barty doesn’t do all these very things with other people.

He’s Barty’s first choice.

And now that he thinks of it, Barty might just be his.

He’s the only person Regulus trusts to see him like this. Not even Pandora could, as much as he loves her. Regulus just hates being vulnerable. But he supposed it’s a little different with Barty, because he’s always been a little vulnerable with Regulus.

It’s comforting, to say the least, to have confirmation that he’s wanted. That he’s cared for. That he’s somebodies first choice.

And Barty loves him, which is strange. He’s never looked at Barty in that way before. And sure, Barty makes plenty of jokes about finding Regulus fit and wanting to snog him and so on and so forth, but he’s never thought too deeply about it.

He does that with other people, doesn’t he?

Now that Regulus thinks about it, he definitely doesn’t do it as much as he does it to Regulus.

Barty pulls away, rubbing up and down Regulus’ biceps, as he gives a nervous smile. It’s crooked, like most of Barty’s smiles, but this time Regulus really notices it.

“I’m sorry if it’s weird, I dunno what to do, Reggie.” Barty tries, “How do I stop you crying?”

Regulus sniffled and blinked his tears away slowly, refusing to cry anymore. His cheeks are all wet and sticky, and his eyes fucking ache, as well as his throat, but he’s not thinking about that.

“Do you really mean that?” Regulus sniffles, and he blinks away a few more tears, “Me being your first choice?”

“Of course, why would I lie about that, Reg. It clearly means a lot to you- I just… I thought you knew.”

Regulus scrunches up his nose, “Well, why would I cry about how I’m no one’s first choice if I knew I was yours?”

Barty’s quiet for a moment. He retracts his hands and ducks his head to mumble, “I just thought… well I thought I didn’t really matter, at the end of it all.” He shrugged, “I’d do anything for you- I already have, you know, and… I just… I thought you knew. And I thought it didn’t matter to you because… well, I’m the same, I suppose. I don’t think anyone’s picked me first either.”

“You still… even thinking that I just- I just didn’t care about you, or your feelings or… or anything at all, you still…” Regulus scrunched up his nose, ducking his head to catch Barty’s eye, “You still would have picked me first?”

Barty nodded, “Done anything for you.”

“Oh.” Regulus whispered, shaking his head, “Barty…”

“Yeah?” Barty asked, swallowing a large lump in his throat.

Regulus kisses him. No thoughts, no warnings, no nothing at all. He just leans forward and kisses him right on the mouth.

Barty pulls away first, almost immediately, wide eyed and startled, “What the fuck did you do that for?”

“I don’t know.” Regulus muttered, touching his lips, “You just… I… you love me, and… fuck, Barty. You’re my best friend.”

“Yeah.” Barty nodded, there’s water in his eyes now, and Regulus can tell he’s trying to hold it back, “And you just kissed me. Please don’t- don’t do that. I’m… I can’t handle that, Reg. I can handle us being friends, even though it’s driving me mad, but… I just- I can’t-“

“Well, don’t you want to be more?”

“Fucking hell, Regulus.” Barty leers back.

“What?” Regulus scoffs.

“You can’t just fucking… don’t say that.” He shakes his head, taking a moment to compose himself, “Don’t be stupid, orrite. I can’t fucking… I love you, Reggie. I can’t handle… possibilities because I’m just… I’m gonna drive myself crazy thinking about them. And that’s not good.”

“I’ve never had someone love me before, Barty.” Regulus whispers, “I’ve never had someone… I want- I want to chose you too. You’re my best friend, and I already do choose you. But I want to do it more. I want to… please?”

“I don’t understand, Reg.” Barty whispered back.

Regulus took his hand, smoothing his fingers over Barty’s rigid knuckles. They’re rough and scarred, just as they always are. Just as Regulus knows them to be.

“I don’t really either, Barty.” He admits, “I never knew you felt that way, and I’ve never thought about it- you- us. I’ve never thought about us like that before, but I… I can picture it.”

Barty closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

“I’m not trying to hurt you, Barty. I don’t want to lead you on. I want to try. Don’t you want to try?”

Barty keeps his eyes sealed shut and he shakes his head no, “What happens when you get bored of me? What- what happens when Potter comes crawling back to you? What happens when you realise I’m fucking… more insane than you thought? I’d- don’t tempt me, Regulus, because I meant what I said, I’d do anything for you.” Barty’s breath trembles, “I’d kill him, I’d kill them both. I’d kill all of them, just to make you happy. So you never feel like a second choice to them ever again- I- I mean it, Regulus.”

“I know.” Regulus breaths, and it scares him, what Barty’s saying, because he does know. It’s not just words. But those words aren’t the part that scare him, it’s the fact that he likes it that does. It makes him want. “I know, Barty. And I know that if I hurt you, truly, truly hurt you like this, you’d make my life a living hell. I know.”

“What about Potter?” Barty asks, trying to mask tears of his own, “Don’t you love him?”

“Maybe.” Regulus admits, regretfully so, “But I don’t want to. He’d never… he could never love me the way you could anyway. The way that I need.”

“And how do you need it?”

“To be your first choice.” Regulus whispered, “How do you need it, Barty?”

Barty took a deep breath, thinking about it for a moment. He looked up at Regulus with a pout and hopeful eyes, “I just want to be good enough for love before anything else.”

Regulus smiles, “You are.”

Barty shakes his head.

“You are.” Regulus confirms, “To me, you are.”

Barty sniffles, “Do you love me… like that?”

Regulus sighs, “N… no.” He scolds himself for the truth, because it seems to shatter Barty’s heart to pieces. “But I want to, Barty… I want to love you the way you do me. And I think I will. You just have to let me.”

“Really?” Barty sobs.

Regulus nods, “Will you let me?”

Barty nods and leans back in, and Regulus kisses him again. They both had wet cheeks, and headaches, and heartaches from crying, but they kiss anyway. And Regulus cries again, for hopefully the last time, because Barty kisses like he never wants to stop.

Regulus has never been kissed like that before.

Regulus has never been loved before.

He thinks with Barty, he might just be enough.

★ ★ ★

Bartylus shippers unite.

This one’s so angsty I’m sorry but I can’t help it and yerr Reggie kinda has misogynistic views which is gross but it’s the fucking 70’s and look at his parents. I USUALLY write them all to be better than that and not arseholes but I wanted to make this one hurt.

Also I don’t think I’ve written from Reggie’s pov before sooooo that was interesting.

Idk I liked this. Let me know your thoughts :)

Read here on ao3

If you want to read more of my stuff you can find it all here :))

Tagging everyone that expressed interest in the angsty bartylus one shot lmao: @lapassemirroir @mayflywrites @garlicbread4ever @moonyluv-s @managingmischeif @stxr-bxy @the-lionsheart @crimsonlovebartylus

#bartylus #regulus black #barty crouch jr #using Jegulus as a plot point for bartylus 😬🤭👀🤷#Reggie has so many big feelings but he’s never got to express them before the poor baby #it’s okay. Barty’s here to save the day #also Barty is a Ravenclaw. and so skinny it’s concerning. he’s trying to defy his dad by being the opposite of the big man he wants him 2 b #Barty is also awkward. not good at emotions but feels them so violently anyway. Barty is also a loose fucking cannon.#barty thinks he doesn’t matter when he actually matters to regulus most of all. they both just didn’t know it yet #and then they kiss and get married and have lots of babies #pandora my beloved and lily both get honerable mentions of being wonderful wonderful women. even though Reggie hates Lily he still thinks #she’s amazing #marauders #slytherin skittles #prev Jegulus #barty x regulus #fluff at the end #angst #kinda Jegulus slander #fluff if you squint #so much angst #dead gay wizards #dead gay wizards from the 70s #RAB #Barty jr #Reggie

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