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#He is too scared to be rejected by her
intercoursefluids · 2 years
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Maribat but with hanahaki disease but not in the "Love me or I will die way" more like this:
Marinette passes Damian and Jon in the hall: *Smiles and waves*
Jon: *Smiles and Waves back*
Damian: *Nods in acknowledgement*
(As soon as Mari turns the corner)
Damian:*Clears his throat to get rid of the urge to cough, a single rose petal leaves his mouth*
Jon, to Damian: For the love of everything holy, just tell the girl that you like her
Damian: I would rather die thank you
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simlishaccent · 3 months
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somehow these are my only screenshots of gp with her during her hair extentions era oops ..
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heewongirl · 1 year
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kdj will 100% not date yjh easily. even if somehow yjh confesses he will reject him. this is simply a fact
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winepresswrath · 9 months
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I do gotta say tho, even tho I’m mad at aziraphale because he’s being a terrible boyfriend like what you said about the “I forgive you like” because WHAT. But also I really like the way the show really demonstrates the underlying cruelty of heaven and it’s angels. Really shows the hypocrisy of a group of beings who are supposed to do good, especially aziraphale who really buys into the heaven propaganda, who hurts people, particularly the person who means the most to him. Because like you said he fully just takes advantage of that devotion Crowley has for him. Insane, this shwo makes me INSANE
I missed this anon and yeah! The angels were one of my favourite parts of the season, and I think the strongest element aside from Neil Gaiman deciding he's just a simple man who wants to put his otp in situations. They are deeply awful and I kind of love them. They are the exact kind of moralizing hypocrites who are callous and cruel precisely because they think being on team good means everything they do is justified and it's actually impossible for them to be in the wrong (they're angels! is it even possible for them to do the wrong thing?).
but!! To me, they also seem like they're basically kids? Obviously they're not literally children, but there is this very consistent reoccurring joke about how childish/sheltered/immature they are. Muriel is the most obvious example, but the archangels come off like bratty twelve year olds to her sweet little kid.
Gabriel is basically teenager in love flipping off his family as he runs away with his backstreet guy. Uriel is constantly picking at Michael, Michael is playing at being in charge like it's a game, and it's ridiculously easy for both Aziraphale and Crowely to trick them obvious half assed lies. They're not allowed to ask questions! The Metatron treats them like badly behaved kids out past their curfew. At any point an old man with a beard may pop up to scold them and send them home, and they're all scared of doing something wrong by his standards and getting in trouble with this guy who is pointedly not God but who lines up exactly with the pop-culture idea of god the father, and who offers Aziraphale, among other things, a respite from the hard work of figuring out what the right thing to do is for himself. It's fine! You don't have to question the belief system you were born into or make a painful break with everything you've ever known! Aziraphale has had six thousand years on earth to grow up, but the other angels have been sitting in a sterile white box playing "i'm not touching you" games with each other and filing paperwork.
And I think that's extra interesting because this season also really emphasizes:
Heaven has Institutional Problems
Aziraphale isn't the only angel who's unhappy in heaven. Gabriel and Muriel were both completely miserable. They just didn't understand that they were unhappy because they'd never experienced anything else.
Angels who aren't Aziraphale can change and grow! There's very explicitly Gabriel being changed by love and Muriel growing up a bit on earth, and from a more fan-theory angle there's also Jimbriel, who I think is probably basically Gabriel minus the war and six thousand years of playing referee for Michael and Uriel while unleashing an assortment of plague and calamities on earth because that's God's will! Buck up champ.
We also get Gabriel and Beezelebub talking about how their underlings basically live for Armageddon, "if you can call that living." This is so bleak. They've all been on a six thousand year time out just dreaming of the day they get to beat the shit out of each other until they feel better, but it won't work because eternity is just more of the box.
Anyway I think it's going in a distinctly eden adjacent direction. Aziraphale is going to tempt those angels with knowledge and the capacity for change. I have veered so far from your ask anon i'm sorry you're right heaven really went all out on sucking this season & while Crowley and Aziraphale are both fucking it up Crowley refrains from being spectacularly cruel to Aziraphale about it and Aziraphale should learn to return the favour. I forgive you!! I forGIVE you. I forgive YOU. "you can be an angel again" is actually a worse thing to say than "you're a demon. i don't even like you." when he finally picks crowley over heaven i'm going to lose my mind.
#good omens spoilers#good omens season two spoilers#idk it makes me sad that i didn't like the humans very much this season because i think ideally they're central to this whole how to be#a person question i also hope we get to see more of hell next season because i do think they're stuck in basically the same place#with a different aesthetic! and the stick being#thrown into a torture pit instead of thrown into hell#or like. mindwiped and locked in an office for all eternity#gabriel broke my heart which is embarrassing but when he goes from not even understanding what music is to experiencing#the simple pleasure of sharing a song with someone for the very first time and almost immediately hits repeat for eternity... baby. baby bo#i would also like more crowley! this was very much the season of aziraphale#which is fine but i missed him yelling questions at god and the bits where it seemed he really wanted aziraphale's opinion instead of just#wanting aziraphale to develop better opinions#next season had better be crowley wrestles with the universe i am telling you!!!#remember three months ago when i was like eh... another good omens season#i bet it'll be cute but i'm content with my book#i don't go here i said strapping on my clown shoes#seriously though i do think crowley is scared to admit to wanting to be good both because god rejected him and he doesn't want#to be a sucker for her (he is only interested in being a sucker for aziraphale)#and like. chase after something he's barred from and has already been told isn't for him.#and that's why it's so hard for him to admit even to himself that he too would be unhappy ditching earth#in ways that parallel aziraphale's unwillingness to let go of heaven as a source of moral authority and goodness#but the way aziraphale goes oh no! i cannot trust my own judgement and desires. They are suspect!#my judgement is that crowley is good and also funny and sexy. my desires are for his company and also his body#therefore the source of these desires is also maybe bad. i mean he's a demon. he's got to be bad#right??? but no. but i saw him do a good thing. but maybe i didn't? I should probably take a stance on this.#and he makes this crowley's problem until the apocalypse but then the second he gets the chance to cram crowley and his feelings for him#back in a heaven approved box he jumps at it in a way that requires just being WILDLY insensitive and dismissive of crowley's feelings#he's not just being a dick about their relationship he is being a dick about crowley as a person. and he should know better but is choosing#not to because he wants the easy out so badly. anyway i love him he was my favourite character all season no notes#good omens
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hermemescabin · 4 months
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I actually can’t stop thinking about Annabeth at the beginning of TLO being so brave and vulnerable, trying to talk to Percy about her feelings with whole “makes you think about loosing people who are important” thing, like she was so nervous but she did it anyway and he shut her down. My heart breaks for her </3
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dutybcrne · 2 months
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More Kae thoughts on him being a parent—deffo would have his hand forced to actually tell sb about his Khaenri’ahn heritage and especially the ties his family has to the Abyss Order, bc the last thing he needs is for the Order to interfere with his life/get ahold of his kid for one reason or another. Preferably the revelation would be for a partner bc they’re easier to trust, but if he’s single at the time, then Noelle or Lisa would be most in the know alongside Adelinde.
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robotpussy · 1 year
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this dude is afraid to get married now... 🙄🙄🙄🙄 i thought u were a hopeless romantic what happened? and he was all over this woman when he first met her too literally falling to his knees when she would come over this is why I'm going to break them up he's a loser!
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floppydisk7000 · 1 year
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I have SOOOO many thoughts about the council of mirrors puckabrina.
I’ve been trying to mellow out to the ending and I think I’ve kinda learned to like it now. My biggest problem with it is that we don’t get to see Puck and Sabrina truly confront their feelings with each other although both of them concede to it after finding out they’re married in the future. I get where MB came from completely when he said Puck can’t provide Sabrina that stability she so craves before she learns to let go and they both def needed to grow up, I just wish they did it together. Sabrina should’ve gone on that worldwide trip with Uncle Jake and Puck! Puck’s whole thing with aging from when they were both kids -because of her- is bc he wants to grow with her. Their moments build so much that the ending falls flat with the introduction of Sabrina getting ready to get married to..someone else. And he crashes the wedding, but the thing is, marriage is such a huge commitment, how did Sabrina bounce back from that 😭 I wish he had more space to write them
but that scene where sabrina latches onto his pant leg and falls and he catches her kills me. I also love how MB writes them being unable to understand the other bc of their diff experiences I just think they should have kissed after idk
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casadefreewill · 1 year
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You ever just see the worst lovesquare takes and you know it’s not worth it to get involved and it’s not like it’s even salt but man we have been watching totally different shows
#sometimes I just want to grab them by the shoulders and shake like please omg have you not been paying attention at all???!?!#anyways Marinette is in no way oblivious to Adrien trying to confess to her#and Adrien did not even have the chance to reject her because she never actually ever got to a confession!#you can also see several examples throughout the show that he may actually have considered her a romantic#option if he didn’t think she was already involved with Luka#also also OMG THE LOVESQUARE HASN’T REVERSED! they’re both just pushing down their feelings for their original crushes because of trama!#not that they don’t actually love the other side of the other#they do#it’s just Marinette has given up on Adrien because she’s scared of making another mistake and Adrien has given up on Ladybug#because he’s scared of being hurt again be another rejection#Marinette has always had some feelings for Chat but was more focused on Adrien and then Chat was too dangerous an option and now suddenly#Adrien is the too dangerous option and Chat is back on the table for enthusiastic consideration#Adrien has also felt something for Marinette for a while but has continually chosen to believe and respect her words to him which have#told him that she’s not interested or is involved with someone else#he also had his fantasy with Ladybug to keep him going so he wasn’t really putting all his happiness and hopes and dreams#eggs in the Marinette basket#and then basically everyone was emotionally ripped away from him in season 4 except Marinette and oh look she’s no longer dating Luka either#I also feel it’s a really bad reading to say they are equal and opposite in their relationships with each others other half’s#they’re really not and it’s not really fair to the story to compare them that way#I feel like I’m just rehashing old arguments at this point#blehgh#ml#mon’s chatter
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themarychain · 6 months
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attachment disorder go brrr
(uhh tw for tags if anyone cares to read)
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unspokenstydia · 2 years
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aphrogeneias · 7 months
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𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫, 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐞 — squirting
pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader
warnings: shy!reader (not "innocent" or inexperienced, just a little more reserved). penetrative sex.
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Chrissy didn't know what she was doing.
It was an innocent question — as innocent as the questions being raised could be, that night. The conversation had quickly descended into more risqué subjects after Steve had gotten a little too tipsy and started complaining about his lack of luck on his latest escapades.
Nothing out of the ordinary, really. You were all used to talking about sex in one way or another. Eddie was famously loud about it, always having a story to tell, his or otherwise. Stories that made you imagine yourself on the receiving end of, guiltily wanting your friend to do those same things he was describing to you.
You kept those fantasies to yourself, though. Not wanting to be teased by the girls, maybe even worse, have them try to set you up with him. You wouldn't be able to live with yourself if Eddie ever rejected you, or dated you out of pity. There was no scenario where this would work in your mind, no "you and Eddie", just you and your thoughts of him, where he would never hurt you, where all he did was make you feel good, imagining it his hands on your body, roaming until they found that place between your legs, instead of your own.
That night, it was no different. After Steve started the conversation, there was no stopping it. You often listened more than talked — not due to lack of experience, you were just a little too shy to share too much, even among close friends — but when the talk switched to Robin commenting about making her girlfriend squirt, you slipped.
"Good for her."
Your reply may have sounded a little more bitter than you'd anticipated, because, one by one, all of your friends looked at you. Maybe it was the scoff that has left your mouth, maybe it was the alcohol that had loosened your tongue. 
"What was that?" Nancy asked, raising a perfectly groomed eyebrow at you.
"Yeah. What was that?" This time, it was Eddie who repeated her question. He sat on the opposite couch with his legs spread, tight black jeans stretching on his lean legs, making you wish you sat between them. You avoided his eyes.
"Nothing. I mean…", you signed, already regretting having said anything, "it's good! Good for her. Robin is good to her, that's a good thing."
You cringed even before you could finish all those convoluted sentences.
"Honey, have you ever… you know," Chrissy asked from her place on the floor, sitting as delicate as a fairy. "squirted?"
"No." You said, simply. Scared to run your mouth even more. "It's not a big deal. Doesn't happen to everybody."
"Have you tried?" Steve asked from behind his beer. He got a myriad of answers ranging from "that's not how It works, dingus!" from Robin, "it's not a matter of trying" from Nancy and "don't ask that, dude" from Eddie.
"I don't even know where to start, Steve. And before anyone asks, yes, I have cum from sex. Just not… like that."
You wanted to crawl into the nearest hole. It was even worse when you could feel Eddie's eyes on you, like he could see right through you. He tilted his head, and you weren't able to handle the kindness in his brown eyes. You looked away.
Your friends' opinions diverged again, making questions and trying to get you to speak, but you couldn't deal with their scrutiny anymore.
"C'mon, guys. It's fine! Can we change the subject, please?" You tried to swerve them. "Like I said, it's not a big deal. Maybe I'm just broken like that."
They shrugged. You shrugged. They moved on — but Eddie's eyes stayed on you for the rest of the night.
You're on Eddie's passenger seat, right in front of your apartment building, later that night when he brings the subject up again.
"I don't think you're broken."
The two of you had spent the entire ride silent, which was odd since Eddie was the chatterbox between the two of you, always filling the gaps with anything that would cross his mind. Neither that, nor his music filled the silence between you.
"What?" You looked at him, still not believing what you'd heard.
"You said that maybe you were broken like that. That's not true, you're… you're perfect."
That feeling of wanting to hide came back tenfold, making your eyes fill with tears. "Eddie, forget about it, please."
"Hey," he brought your gaze back to him with a finger to your chin, delicately turning your head. "I meant what I said. You're perfect, it's just that no one's taken the time to treat you right. It takes patience, from both sides."
"Yeah, and?"
"I was thinking that maybe I could change that. If you'd let me."
One thing you'd always admired about Eddie was his strength of conviction. He never said anything he didn't believe in, and backed it all up. His voice never faltered, he doesn't shy away from speaking his mind — and you hated that you were forcing yourself to disbelieve him.
"Eddie…"
"Look at me." He pleaded, and in spite of your concerns, you did as he told. His eyes bore into your with a sincerity that was so painfully him. "You can say no. I'll go home and we'll forget about everything I just said. But, sweetheart… I'm dying to prove you wrong."
Eventually, he did.
After you'd gotten up the stairs to your floor kissing and tugging at each other's clothes, letting Eddie's tongue taste yours over and over, stopping to let yourself be cornered against the wall by him. Getting lost in the feeling of his solid body against yours, the smell of him — a strong, masculine perfume, cigarettes and beer — making you dizzy, his lips on your neck making you even dizzier.
After he took your clothes off halfway down your living room, reverencing your body with his rough hands, kneeling between your feet in the middle of your halfway. He made you cum for the first time that night with his mouth, kissing your pussy the way he kissed your mouth, sucking on your clit the same way he sucked on your tongue. You came as you pulled his hair, his strong arms around your hips preventing you from falling.
After he guided you to your bed, still craving a taste of you. Hands not knowing where to sit still while he pulled another orgasm from you, his fingers deep within you, curling and stroking your walls, his mouth still not leaving your clit. Your ears buzzed with the force of your climax, not being able to hear Eddie's praise. "That's my girl," he said, head resting on the plush of your thigh, looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky, "doing such a good job, but I'm not done with you yet."
After he made your eyes blur with pleasure when you finally entered you, rubbing the head of his cock on your sensitive bundle of nerves, once, twice, three times before putting it in, slowly bottoming out. Leaving kisses all over your face, shining with sweat. You didn't think you could take it, curling your toes and hugging his narrow hips with your spread legs, feeling each thrust with a tenderness you never did before.
After he filled and stretched you to the brim, pulling out only to push it all in again. Uttering against your skin, broken whimpers, your name on his lips like a prayer. You were beyond the point of forming words, kissing him to stop yourself from screaming. You could feel yourself dripping down your pussy, and into the sheets, soaking Eddie's cock.
After he pulled your thigh higher up his waist, and stood on his knees, pounding into you with measured speed. He hit your spot over, and over, and over — you grabbed the sheets with both hands, repeating his name like a broken record, music to his ears.
"Yeah? That feels good, baby? Am I making you feel good?" Eddie looked like a god above you. Wild hair down to his shoulders, pale skin slick with sweat, eyes drilled on you. You made the mistake of looking down to where your bodies met, watching his thick cock drenched with your juices, going in and out of you. His pubic hair, also matted with your wetness, creating a delicious friction against your clit. "Tell me. Who's making you feel this good?"
"You, Eddie." You whimpered. "You, you, you. Always you."
"That's right, baby. That's" a hard thrust, "fucking," a a squeeze of your thigh, "right."
You felt your orgasm approach with a  deep pressure on your navel, building and building until you couldn't keep It down anymore. You let yourself go, the ringing in your ears louder and cleared, cumming with Eddie's name on your lips.
That's when you felt it. You were limp in your bed, with Eddie above you. You'd felt him cum too, dropping his weight above you, but still keeping himself steady by his elbows. but everything was distant, like it was happening in a dream. Slowly, you came back to yourself — to Eddie, gently coaxing you with sweet words, and to the warm wetness coating your thighs, your ass, and Eddie's lower half.
"Did I…?"
"Fuck yeah, you did." His boyish smile, so different from the confident smirk you saw not moments ago, made you smile too, weakly and still a little embarrassed, but too satisfied to care.
"Happy now?"
"Only when you do it again." 
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irndad · 2 months
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walter- s.r.
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a/n: can be read as a stand alone!! but this is in the same universe as "in every other life", when they're still in the pining phase, if you want to see them end up together read that one!
“Your middle name is Walter?”
She’s grinning like the Cheshire cat, a grand grin spread across her lovely features. Spencer in both equal measures embarrassed by her question and charmed by her disposition. 
She’s beautiful today, dressed smartly and her dainty fingers almost brush his on his desk as she stands over him. He can smell her perfume, sweet and pleasant. He wants to hold her hand. 
“Who told you that?” He ask, trepidation seeped in his tone. 
“Walter?”
Shame licks at his spine, a familiar sense of embarrassment and rejection looming. He liked his name fine- his mother often would tell him that it’s a sturdy, honest name. He liked it because his mother had liked it, but Spencer he is under no illusion that it Spencer Walter Reid is a particularly attractive name. 
He does like how she says his name, though. 
There’s ways she says it. When she’s at work, she always asks him questions punctuated by his name. What do you think is right, Spencer? What do you think, Spencer? 
It’s lovely to be acknowledged. She has so much intentionality, her doe eyes trained on his with fondness and something like respect. Sometimes, he imagines that she likes him. How he likes her. 
They spend Friday nights together sometimes, when she said that she’s been working through a Doctor Who rewatch- 
“Morgan must have told you,” he muses, fond despite his insecurity. She looks like she’s found out a secret about him, like there’s some conspiracy that has now lost, and now she knows his middle name. 
“It’s cute!” 
Cute is not dreamy- it’s not the romance novel cover that she left on her desk one time (which she’d be mortified if she knew he’d seen) and cute is certainly not boyfriend material. Not that he has a shot at that, but still- he’d like to be an option. 
Spencer juts out his bottom lip in a pout he can’t control. 
“It’s not cute! It’s a very masculine name. I believe its origin is in Olde English.”
“Spencer,” she says, and leans down to his level, and she’s so close to him. SHe’s been this close before- hazy nights under the light of his cheap lamp, when she’s fallen asleep on his couch. He’s not sure she’s told anyone about those nights, about the moments where time slips into the ether and becomes something else entirely. 
“Spencer Walter Reid,” she says, pausing with intention on every piece of his name. He’s never liked it this much, his name. She’s leaning in at the office, which means that she probably won’t kiss him, but he thinks about it. She’s never kissed him before- they’re friends, he needs to remember that. It’s hard to sometimes.  He tries not to stare at her lips. “Your name is just the tip of the iceberg of things that are adorable about you.”
He feels himself involuntarily flush a bright red. It’s not enough to be adorable to her- he’d like to be attractive, like to be the thing she pictures at night when she’s scared of the dark. He wants to be her solace, the person she find comfort- light, love in. 
Adorable is good too, though. He’ll take what he can get. 
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dreamingonfilm · 1 year
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✧˖*°࿐ Love Letters | d.m
Draco Malfoy x f!reader, fluff
Summary: In which Draco tries to find the girl who sends him love letters, unaware to the fact that it’s you.
W/C: 1.5k
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Draco’s fingers traced over the writing on the pink envelope once again. His mind was not able to rest as he tried to piece together who left the note on his bedside in the middle of the night. Delicately opening it once more, he reread the words inside;
Draco, 
I hope you can learn to see yourself the way that I see you, with love and acceptance. You are what makes everyday worth it. Constellations are named after you, and each day I can’t help but to be thankful for the sun breathing on you once more. You are my light.
He carefully closed the envelope and placed it inside his bag. ‘They like me.’ the boy thought to himself, ‘someone actually likes me.’ 
It’s not that the boy was a stranger when it comes to love, but never once has he been perceived as something more than what he truly is. He’s always been Draco Malfoy, heir to the Malfoy throne, son of Lucius, and most importantly a Slytherin. For this reason, he constantly rejected any advances that came from the female students around him. While his rejections came off as rude and cold-hearted, the other students failed to see that Draco, just like everyone else around him, was human too. He was scared of being hurt by the one feeling that he craved the most. 
The walk to class was almost unbearable, he couldn’t stop thinking about the letter. He wanted to know the poet behind those beautiful words, the ones that kept repeating over and over in his head as he tried stirring potions or taking notes. You are what makes everyday worth it. He became hyper aware of his surroundings, assuming that he would know when he sees her, but he failed to realize that she was not someone that could be so easily spotted. She came exactly when you needed her to, not by desire alone.
—-
“Draco,” his friend Blaise called to him, “focus.”
“Oh, right.” Draco replied, trying to get his thoughts together as he walked back to his seat. It was the middle of the school week and his mind was only getting more crowded with the thoughts of her. As he sat back down, his friends swarmed him with questions as to what it was that he smelled in his amortentia, assuming that this would be the first step to finding her.
“I can’t describe it.” He sighed, running a hand through his platinum hair in defeat. “She has me going crazy and I don’t even know her.” 
“Well,” Pansy spoke up, “I suggest maybe moving on? I mean, if she wants to be anonymous it may be for a reason. Plus, you have hundreds of other girls that would kill to be with you, Draco. Maybe try your luck somewhere else.” She flashed him a sincere smile before going in to hold his hand, but her efforts were cut short as the boy suddenly stood up. 
“I don’t want to be with anyone unless it’s her.” He sneered, shaking his head as he turned around and started heading straight to the door. He said a hushed goodbye to his friends before exiting into the crowded hall.
Why couldn’t his friends see that he didn’t want anyone else? He didn’t care about her wealth, status, or looks, all that he wanted was someone that could love him in full. Love him in a way that can’t be tamed, a love that lives long after they do. This was something that he knew he wasn’t going to find any time soon, for as long as he was at Hogwarts he could only be Draco Malfoy.
His hopes were on her.
He walked through the hall, pushing through students that stood in his way as he asserted dominance with a ray of confidence and high ego. Students glared at him but none had the guts to say anything, this fear that Draco instilled was not one that was going to go away any time soon. It was one that he brought upon himself and now had to live with. Somewhere in between his daydreams and the crowded corridor, he felt someone bump into him. Their shoulders collided as his books fell to the floor. The stranger mumbled a quick apology before running off.
In the midst of his anger, he froze. He smelt it. That same scent that clouded him only a few minutes before. There it was, it was her, but just as quickly as he smelled it, she was gone. Only seeing her hair as she turned at the corner of the hallway. 
He quickly got up and chased after her, pushing and shoving anyone that got in his way. This was his chance, he was finally going to meet the girl that’s been making him mad, the one that he’s been dreaming of. His heart was pounding as he ran faster and faster down the hall, students staring at him in confusion as he was passing them by, quills and journals flying out of his bag –  but he didn't care, he couldn’t let her get away.
Once he turned the corner, he couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sensation of defeat. His heart crushed as he stared into the empty hallway.
—- 
Two weeks have passed since the day that Draco and her collided. He sat in his bed, holding a brand new letter. The same shade of pink as the one before, with the handwriting that he’s fallen in love with. 
“Draco, 
I’m sorry for not writing to you. I’ve been thinking of you every day, and I just can’t bear to keep dreaming of you without letting you know that I’m sorry for bumping into you in the hallway. The truth is, I’m scared, Draco.
I’m scared you aren’t going to like me for who I am. I’m scared that writing to you was a mistake. I’m scared that the only way you will ever see me is through these letters. I see you every day, why can’t you see me? 
You’re always in my heart, shining above me every night, my constellation. If we remain strangers forever, just know that I’ve never come to love someone like how I love you.”
He was getting restless. Constant possibilities of who it could be running through him, he even considered the possibility that this could be a prank, but no amount of doubt could prevent him from finding her, his hope overpowered all the fear that he had.
Draco sat up once more and started getting ready for dinner. Brushing his hair and straightening out his tie, he needed to look presentable for the off chance that he could be meeting her today. 
He headed down into the Great Hall and that’s when he saw it. A pink envelope in the hands of a girl he’s never talked to, but not just any girl, it was you.
He shouted out into the void, but he wasn’t quick enough. “Hey wait!” he called out, as you quickly grabbed your things and ran off once more. He couldn’t see you like this, it wasn’t the right time. Your face flushed red as you ran, your breathing quickening as your legs started to grow tired, but you could not let him find you. 
Draco chased after you, he was only a few feet behind but with enough determination you knew you could lose him. As you sprinted through the maze of halls, you started to grow light headed, you knew that if you didn’t stop soon you would faint. 
But it’s not the right time 
You stopped in front of a random classroom, rushing to open the door before he could catch up to you, but it was too late. He crashed into you, both of you falling to the ground with a loud thump, his hands landing on either sides of you as you laid in between him.
He finally found you. 
“Who are you?” He asked, not wasting any more time to get to know the girl who stole his heart. You stared into his eyes, feeling a frog in your throat as you mustered up the courage to finally talk to him.
“M-my name is (Y/N).” You whispered, neither of you breaking eye contact. He smiled, grabbing hold of your hands as he went to pick you both up. You were both nervous, too scared of saying the wrong things, but wanting to say them all regardless.
“(Y/N),” he repeated, looking at you with a face full of love and adoration, “I’m Draco.” 
He brushed your hair with his fingers and went to pat the dust off your shoulders. You didn’t know what to say or do, but you didn’t have to.
This was the right time.
 “Come along then (Y/N),” Draco smiled, interlocking his hand in yours before leading you back down to the Great Hall, “we have a lot of catching up to do.”
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all4yoi · 1 month
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only you
𝑒nhypen x fem!reader ⚹ cw. part 2 of just a game , hyung line , 2nd pov , ︎ fluff / comfort , lowercase intended , crying , cliche fluff omfg , karina mentioned on heeseung's & wonyoung on sunghoon's , not proofread ! part one here !
after catching them holding hands with another female, you walk away from them and they run after you, assuring you it was all a misunderstanding.
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★ LEE HEESEUNG (0.5k words)
the day was coming to an end and heeseung has yet to find you.
after he had politely rejected karina, he ran after you but to no avail. all of his attempts on trying to reach you was a bootless errand. everytime he had seen a glimpse of you - whether in the cafeteria, library, the hallways, and god even in your shared class - you somehow always found a way to avoid him.
he could've simply gave up and moved on, he could've ran back to karina and date her instead. but he didn't want to give up and move on, he didn't want to run back to karina and date her, because what he wanted- needed, was you.
heeseung didn't want to go home yet, he needed to see you and explain everything. he'd be a fool to let you out his reach especially now that he knows you feel the same for him. he wasn't going to lose you because of a stupid mistake he made.
spotting a familiar figure sitting underneath a tree in the university's garden, he silently walked towards them, his fingers crossed hoping that he's finally found you.
and as if the universe was on his side, he saw you gorgeously flipping through a book with your pink earphones on. heeseung silently sat beside you, hoping you won't run away from him again. he saw how you stiffened and how your fingers stopped playing with the book's pages, and he wanted nothing but to hold your hand. it was your hand he wanted to hold- no one else's. you may not be with him yet, but ever since he realized he liked you, he was already yours before you even knew.
"y/n," he started softly, gently removing one earbud from your ear so you could hear him. you let him and look at him with hesitance, scared that he's here to tell you that he's changed his mind and he likes karina now instead.
heeseung smiled softly at you, "please let me talk and explain everything, okay?" you nodded, feeling your throat clogging up. "karina, you know she's one of my good friends, right? when you saw me holding her hand a while ago, she was the one who took my hand. i was so taken aback by her confession that i completely froze-..
because she's like a sister to me and you're the one i want. you're the one i need.. the one i like." he paused, brows furrowed in worry, hoping you'd understand. "i'm sorry for letting her hold my hand, and i'm sorry for hurting you. i really really like you y/n, please let me redeem myself to you." he finished, a small hesitant smile in his face as he studied yours.
feeling overwhelmed, you burst into tears. heeseung panicked, thinking he said something wrong and brought you to his chest, wrapping his arms around you.
"i thought you'd choose her over me." you cried in his chest, your own arms wrapping around his waist. heeseung didn't know why, but even when you were crying in his chest with your arms wrapped around his waist, he was feeling over the moon.
shaking his head, he pulled you closer if it was even possible and mumbled in your hair, "i'll choose you in a room full of other girls baby. only you."
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other members utc!
★  PARK JONGSEONG (0.5k words)
3 hours was enough space right? jay liked to think it was, he was too impatient and just wanted to run to you and explain everything, but he knew you probably didn't want to see him after what you've witnessed.
jay had tried to put himself in your shoe, imagining seeing you holding hands with another boy after confessing to you- by the thought of it alone already made him feel ten times more worse, he hated himself with how much pain he had caused you.
so instead of waiting until tomorrow, jay took his bag and walked out of the cafeteria, ignoring his friends that were calling for him. he already knew where to find you, after all, he's always had his eyes on you ever since the first semester started.
jay muttered a quiet 'good afternoon' to the librarian before making a beeline towards the back of the library and there you were in your element. laptop open, headphones on with multiple books on the table you've occupied.
he liked to think that his type were girls that were a bit dumb so that he could lead the relationship, but when it comes to you? smart, pretty, and soft spoken? if his heart could speak, he's certain that the only word it can mutter is your name, and he's not ashamed to admit that.
the moment you looked up and made eye contact with him almost made his knees give up if it weren't for him holding on to a shelf to stabilize himself, and when you softly smiled at him despite what you saw that morning, it made him yearn for you more. he wouldn't ask for no one else.
call him cliché but you were the only one for him.
"what are you doing there? come sit." you motioned on the empty seat across from you to which he occupied immediately. "have you eaten?"
"have you?" he questioned back, eyeing the papers and books splattered on the table. "i had coffee." was your reply.
jay knew that you were still upset, it was showing in your body language. you were tense, stiff, and your fingers were shaking behind your laptop. he wanted to punch himself for making you feel this way.
"i'm sorry y/n, i really am." the hum you let out made him continue, his eyes studying your pretty face silently. "it's really not what it looked like-"
"everyone says that jay." the way you bit your lip told him that you didn't mean to cut his sentence off and be so harsh.
"yes, i know, it's stupid but i'm telling the truth. she bumped into me and fell, i couldn't just leave her on the floor because everyone saw our collision so i offered her a hand. that was it, i was about to walk away but she introduced herself and insisted on shaking hands.. then you saw me.
i know it looked so wrong from your perspective without context, and i'm sorry for upsetting you. i really had no other intentions, i was telling you the truth when i told you that night that i like you too, so much." he reached out for your hand, sighing in relief when you didn't pull away.
you nodded your head in understanding, squeezing his hand to tell him you now understand. "i'm sorry for jumping into conclusions and not hearing you out the first time."
he shook his head, squeezing your hand back. "it's okay, i understand. we're good now?" chuckling at him, you nodded and smiled at him. "we are, thank you."
★ SIM JAEYUN (0.4k words)
the tears in your eyes as you walked away from him made his heart crack. should he run after you? will you find him annoying? do you want him to run after you or do you want nothing to do with him now?
after arguing with himself on his head, he ran after you and engulfed you in a hug before you could turn around the corner and disappear from his sight. "please let me explain." his own voice cracked, and the weird looks you both received from the other students did not faze him at all.
"jake, not here please. they're looking at us.." he hastily took your hand and led you into an empty classroom, wanting nothing more than to assure you that what you thought is wrong and all he wanted was only you.
after he had made sure the door was locked and no one else was hiding somewhere, he immediately took your hands in his rubbing the back of your palm with his thumb.
you didn't know what to feel, was this how he held that girl's hand too? did he hold hers with gentleness too? with that in thought, your tears were back.
"no no, please don't cry. it was all a misunderstanding i promise." he held your face and wiped away the tears, his eyes held worry but so much love as well.
"she mistook me as her boyfriend, it didn't even last for 10 seconds because the moment she held my hand we both pulled away from each other.. it was just wrong timing that you saw it and we made eye contact, please believe me." he was practically crying with you right now, his own tears cascading down the apple of his cheeks.
you frantically nodded your head - now you were the one panicking at the sight of his tears. "i do, thank you for explaining. please don't cry." his tears were wiped with your thumbs as you hugged him tight.
"i don't want you to ever think i'm lying to you, you're really all i need." he explained further through his sobs, his arms tightening around you more.
there you two were, hugging each other in an empty room, tears falling down from both of your eyes as you comforted each other. and at that moment, no one else mattered - it was just the both of you in the world.
★ PARK SUNGHOON (0.6k words)
to say that sunghoon felt like shit the whole day yesterday and this morning was an understatement. he had desperately contacted you in all your social media accounts - fucking christ he even contacted you through your school's email, but to no avail, he was always left ignored.
he didn't blame you though, if he was to experience and see what you did yesterday, he would act the same - maybe even worse. sunghoon wanted nothing more but to make it up to you, to explain that he was only doing wonyoung a favor to make her crush jealous. i guess you could blame him for agreeing, but did he really have a choice when she just randomly grabbed him and told him to smile at every passing student? maybe.
he had texted wonyoung that same afternoon, telling her- demanding her politely? to explain everything to you, she told him she did but was only left on read by you. the girl apologized profusely to you and sunghoon, she didn't have any idea about the two of you and if she did - she wouldn't have done what she did.
but what's done is done, and now sunghoon is still trying to desperately reach you. throughout the day, he would hear your name coming out of other people's mouth, but not once did he catch a single glimpse of you. sunghoon was running out of options, he didn't want to be that type of guy to show up infront of your door step in fear of crossing boundaries, but he was seriously considering doing it today.
sunghoon mentally chanted your name in his head as if that would help and summon you, and you know what? maybe it did work because now he was seeing you standing across from him, your back facing towards him as you looked at the bulletin board.
not wasting any time, he raced towards you and gently grabbed your forearm, successfully turning your attention from the bulletin board to the taller boy behind you. sunghoon wanted the ground to swallow him whole when he saw how your face dropped at the sight of him.
"let's talk, please?" he whispered that only you could hear, glancing around the corridor before looking back at you. the small hesitant nod was everything he needed before he lead you in an empty hall as everyone was in the cafeteria.
sunghoon took his chance and took you in, loving the way you've dressed yourself today and he wanted to just keep you in his arms all day, but he reminded himself that he needed to clear things up and make you his girlfriend obviously before he could even do that.
"wony already explained everything, i'm sorry for assuming the wrong thing.." sunghoon was taken aback by your sudden apology, and the tightness in his chest grew.
he took your face in his hand, gently bringing your chin up so he could look you in the eye. "i should be the one apologizing.. i'm sorry for making you feel that way, i didn't have any other intentions towards her and i only like you.. so much to the point that it hurts. i'll do anything to prove it to you."
he couldn't understand that someone so precious as you could grow such feelings for him, he couldn't process and believe that he's important to someone he finds important too. should he be punished by the gods above because he finds your teary eyes enchanting? he could see his reflection in your eyes and the love it carries, and somehow he finally understands. sunghoon feels warm as he brought you to his chest, tucking your head in the crook of his neck.
"i'll show you, i'll give you my everything and my forever. you're it for me."
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seravphs · 1 year
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ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — YUTA x FEM READER 
You’ve been trying to get a boyfriend to get over your one sided crush, but being known as Yuta’s girl across campus is a major cockblock for your romantic endeavours. The worst part? You’re not even dating.
wc — 4.8k
tags — pining, childhood friends to lovers, jealous Yuta, possessiveness, college au, Getou #1 wingman Suguru but only cause he gets a kick out of watching Yuta suffer, Yuta and you are so delusional, some suggestive content
♫: cologne — beabadoobee
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This is the fifth boy that’s turned you down so far. You’re starting to wonder if something’s wrong with you. 
As with all of your woes, it ends with you at Yuta’s apartment. Is it pathetic to be comforted for your failed attempts at flirting by the boy you’re in love with? Very. Do you trust anyone else but Yuta not to make fun of you? No. 
“Yuta,” you whine into his stomach. He’s sitting on the couch with his legs tucked neatly together to form a cushion for your head. “Am I ugly?” 
He drops his controller instantly, muttering a quick sorry to Inumaki who’s suddenly left single handedly defending their team against the enslaught of monsters. “Why would you say that?” 
He pinches your cheeks between two fingers, squishing your face until your lips form an ‘o’. “You’re the prettiest girl in the world! Anyone would be lucky to have you.” 
Clearly not, or Yuta would have you. He’s just saying that because he has to. He’s your best friend.
“Did someone say something to you?” He asks. 
“So you do think I’m ugly!” 
Yuta grabs you by the wrists and hauls you upright so you’re face to face on the couch, knees uncomfortably entangled with his as you’re forced to sit up. He’s too earnest, too eager as he presses your hands together in his grip and says, “Everything about you is pretty! I never want to hear you say that again. Don’t disparage the eyes and lips and nose that I love.” 
This is the reason why you can never get over him. How can you when he says things like that? If you hadn’t known Yuta since you were five, you would say he was leading you on. But because you’ve grown up together, you know it’s just the way he is, like the sky is blue or the sun is warm. Yuta just loves you - but not like that. Not in the way you want. 
Never in the way you want. 
It’s been difficult. You and Yuta have no secrets between you, or at least you used to. It’s a side effect of growing up practically out of the same womb. What’s his is yours and vice versa. When you share everything with each other, it goes against your very nature to hold things back. Your secret strains at your lips, climbing up your throat, constantly begging to be set free even as you suppress it. 
“You’re making me sad,” he says, poking at your cheek at your silence. He’s trying to provoke you. “Why can’t you see yourself the way I do?” 
Normally he can get a smile out of you under any circumstance, so it distresses him not to be able to cheer you up instantly. He’s your best friend, the only one you have. You’ve been together your entire lives. Would telling him really change everything? 
You want to trust him more than the fear that he would reject you. Even if he can’t love you back the way that you want him to, at least this nightmare would be over. You could learn to accept what he was willing to give you, in time. Isn’t it a slight against the love you share to doubt him like this? 
But you’re scared. A childhood friend is irreplaceable. You can make new friends, but you can never get another Yuta. You’ll never be able to replicate the way he’s shared all of the bumps and bruises of your childhood with someone else. His mother has a box of your baby teeth that she keeps with her mementoes of his childhood. Who else can you say that about? You can’t risk it. 
“Yuta. Stop flirting and get your ass back in the game before we die!” 
Inumaki’s normally quiet voice hits a volume so loud it echoes through the headset. Yuta winces. Sorry, he mouthes at you. Talk later. 
God damn it, Inumaki. You were so close. 
“It’s not my fault,” he says through a mouthful of rice at lunch the next day. “How was I supposed to know that’s what you guys were talking about? I thought you guys were making your usual goo goo eyes at each other, not making breakthroughs.” 
“To be fair,” Panda says. “We never thought you were going to make a breakthrough, so it can’t be Inumaki’s fault.” 
“Ouch,” you rest your head against the cool linoleum of the table. “Way to let me down easy, guys.” 
“Come on,” Inumaki pushes his miso soup at you in a show of contrition. “You know we’re just joking.” 
“I know, I’m just annoyed cause you’re right - keep your mouth shut, Inumaki. He’s never going to see me that way.” 
“Didn’t you just jump from friend to potentially attractive friend? Sounds like a win to me,” Inumaki says. 
“For anyone else, yeah. For Yuta, it probably just means he’s going to start setting me up with his friends so I realize I’m pretty.” 
Inumaki and Panda share a look. You know the look. It means they think you’re being dumb. 
You steal Panda’s soup too as payback. 
Inumaki and Panda are easy to talk to about Yuta. More often than not, they’re the ones who bring up your relationship woes first because Inumaki loves teasing you and Panda secretly loves rom coms.
It’s a complete contrast from your other best friend. You’re too scared to tell Maki about the latest development in your relationship because she hates hearing about it. She’s a good friend who cares about you and your feelings, or so she claims, but she can’t stand watching you drag your feet. 
“Just confess already,” she hisses, using her textbook to shield her face from the professor. 
“I can’t! It’ll ruin everything!” 
“Don’t be a baby,” she snaps back, unaware of the professor walking towards her. You try to gesture at her to shut up, but she’s too focused on saying her piece. 
“Ladies. Would you like to continue your riveting discussion outside?” 
Even getting kicked out of class isn’t a deterrent for Maki. “Fine. You won’t confess to Yuta. What about your other plan?”
“No one will talk to me because they think I’m dating Yuta,” you wail as quietly as possible. 
“You serious?” She squints at you. “I’m telling you, just confess at that point.”
You shake your head vehemently. 
“Fine! Ignore me if you want to, but you see that guy coming our way? Try it one more time so I can see.” 
Maki pushes you down the path towards him before you can say no. You have an inkling how this is going to go based off the five previous times you’ve tried this, but Maki’s stare is drilling holes into the back of your head. 
“Hey,” you smile. 
“No thanks,” he says immediately. “Just save yourself the trouble. No one’s stupid enough to go after Yuta’s girl.” 
“Yuta’s girl? What does Yuta have to do with anything? Why does everyone keep saying that to me?!” 
“Bark up the right tree enough times and eventually you’ll find the devil.” 
“…I think the saying is ‘if you knock on enough doors, the devil will answer.’ How did you even come up with that?” 
“I’m just saying! Feels like the answer’s obvious to me, Yuta’s girl.” 
“Argh!” You march back to Maki, who’s giggling to herself. You just hope that at least she’ll be able to help you after that embarrassing little display. “So? What’s your advice?”
“Huh? Oh, I didn’t have advice. I just wanted to see it happen in real time.” 
Maki’s no help, either. 
The problem with being in love with Yuta is he doesn’t even allow you the grace of trying to get over him. No one will touch with you a ten foot pole until Getou. 
Getou is two years your senior, thinks of Yuta as this cute little puppy that follows Gojo around, and looks just right for your purposes. He’s not a carbon copy of Yuta. He just shares features with him. If anything, he could be his older brother. He has long black hair instead of short, but the same haunted eyes. 
It’s better that way, easier to not cut too deep. You know exactly how far you can go before the pleasure of pain tips too far into the wrong side. If he looks like him just enough, then you can slip in between lucid dreams. Yuta’s face comes to you in flashes rather than consistently when you’re together with Getou. 
He’s a smart man. He picks up on it almost instantly. 
Another reason Getou’s perfect for you? 
He simply doesn’t care. It’s not his problem what his darling little underclassmen get up to as long as it doesn’t interfere with his life. If you just want to have a good time, he’s down for that too. 
If you weren’t so hung up on Yuta, you think Getou might be fun. Fun could turn into love, perhaps. But those were only what ifs that were useless to you. It’s Yuta, it’s always been. He’s the only one for you. 
You can’t lose him. 
But you want him in ways he isn’t willing to give you. Incessantly, he haunts you at odd hours. You’re doing homework at one in the morning when your thoughts wander and you’re thinking of him. The way he’d coach you through this problem. The sure, strong strokes of his handwriting, as familiar as your mother’s voice. 
It’s hopeless. Every part of you has already been attuned to Yuta since childhood. You can’t extricate yourself. You can only hope to outlast the growth, and cling on as long as you are able. The only concessions you can allow yourself are small ones. 
Yuta’s a good student who sleeps early, but he’ll pick up for you. He always does. You’re his childhood best friend after all, and that leaves a sour taste in your mouth even as you begrudge yourself your own greediness. 
“Hello?” His voice is thick with sleep, husky and low in a way that you know doesn’t belong to you. You savor it anyways, these small intimacies you get to keep until he finds a girl of his own and doesn’t need you anymore. 
“Hello?” He says again. “Are you drunk? Do you need me to pick you up?” 
“Just bored,” you reply, playing with your pen. “Sorry, were you asleep?” 
“Don’t play with my feelings like that,” he laughs. “We both know you knew I was. Want me to stay up with you?” 
“Nah. I’m sorry for waking you up.” 
“You know I’d want you to, anytime. Are you working on the paper from English?” 
“Yeah. Go back to sleep,” you say, letting the smallest of smiles grace your lips. Alone in your room, you can allow yourself these small weaknesses. 
“Mm, but I wanna stay up with you,” he says, even as his voice grows softer and softer. You can almost picture him, hair sleep tousled and eyes half lidded. It’s a sight out of your dreams. 
“I’ll hang up when I’m done. Go to bed, Yu.” 
By the time you finish, you can hear his breathing evening out through the speakers. He’s a light sleeper, so you tip toe around as you finish getting ready for bed. When you have to hang up, you’re almost tempted to leave him on speakerphone so his soft breaths can lull you to sleep. 
You banish that unwelcome thought to the deepest, darkest, most remote time out corner of your brain and immediately text Getou to meet up the next day. You need to get a hold of yourself. 
“You know,” Getou drawls, “keep calling me out like this and I might get the wrong idea.” 
“If you fall for a girl that only talks to you about how much she likes her crush, that’s your own fault.” 
“Fair enough,” he laughs. “So what is it this time?” 
“I called him at night and his voice was so sleepy-“
“I meant,” Getou says, a finger running over the rim of his coffee cup as he looks at you. “What do you want me to do about it?” 
“Please make me forget him.” 
Getou smiles at you. “What a coincidence. I needed to blow off some steam today.” 
If you close your eyes, you can imagine someone else when Getou kisses you. One thing leads to another and he ends up taking you home. 
The thing about your relationship with Getou is it’s so ridiculously easy. There’s no strings attached for either of you, so when you wake up to his peaceful face in bed the next day, there’s no regrets. 
Well, except one. 
Getou’s a gentle lover in every way, but he’s a biter. There’s a trail of dark bruises blooming over your neck and collarbones. 
“Pretty, isn’t it?” He calls from the bed as you admire yourself in the mirror. 
“You’re an asshole,” you tell him. “I have to get breakfast with Yuta today.” 
He grins. “That’s the point.” 
You barely have time to messily apply concealer before you’re almost late to your appointment with Yuta. He’s waiting at the place he and you claimed as your own the very first day you arrived on campus. The nice granny who runs this diner has a soft spot for the two of you and often gives you free desserts. 
You slide into the seat across from him just as he’s wrapping up one of his readings for that day. He barely looks up when he feels you come closer, just lifts his arm wordlessly so he can tuck you into his side like a baby bird under its mother’s wings. He turns his head to the side even as his eyes are following the words on the page to press a light kiss to your temple, his breath stirring your hair as he rests his head against yours for a brief moment before returning to his textbook. He flips a page. 
Would he still allow you these gentle, nonchalant touches if he knew how you really felt? Your stomach drops at the intrusive fear that he might be disgusted by you afterwards, withdrawing the easy skinship he shares with you that he thinks nothing of, but you savor. You’re hyper aware of every brush of his hand against your shoulder as he lets his arm hand loosely around you. 
“I’m done,” he announces, stretching out so his lanky body is pressed flat to the table for a second before he straightens. He must be sore from hunching over his textbook all morning. In sympathy, you lightly rub at his shoulders. 
“Did you eat yet?” He asks. “Want me to order you something?” 
“No-“ You’re in the middle of replying when his face is suddenly far too close to you. 
“Hey there,” you laugh nervously. “What are you doing?” 
Yuta pulls back, but there’s a minute crease in his expression. 
“There’s something on your neck.” He says. 
“What?” 
His hand curls around the base of your neck. It doesn’t hurt. There’s a complete lack of pressure in his grip, fingers loose and curled. He’s just holding you. You inhale sharply, a recoil aborted. 
“Sorry,” he says, easy smile and gentle demeanor that doesn’t reach his eyes. They’re a little shadowed today, harried. He wears his emotions all over his face. You know he has a final today, that he likely didn’t sleep last night. It must be why he’s acting weird. 
His fingertips ghost over your neck, light tap-tap-tapping that makes you shiver. “What’s this?” 
You pull out your phone to check yourself in the camera. The concealer you put on this morning has sweated off, leaving streaks on your shirt. Underneath the smudges, the blurry outline of the marks Getou left on you last night are visible. 
Your face burns with mortification. 
“Yuta! You shouldn’t ask people stuff like that!” 
It’s not like he’s a child. You know he knows what a hickey is. He’s just pointing it out so you know he knows. 
He shrugs. “I mean, yeah, I’d be more careful about what I was saying if it was anyone else, but it’s you. What the hell happened? It looks like you had a tryst with a vampire.”
Gingerly, he touches your neck again, his fingers cold from holding his iced latte. You need him to stop doing that before you do something stupid. 
“Does it hurt?” He asks. 
“It felt good-“ 
“Stop! I didn’t need to know that,” he says, face turning red. 
Defensively, you retort, “Well, you asked!” 
“Forget it,” he sighs. “I’m sorry I spent all of breakfast studying. What are you doing later?” 
“Hanging out with Getou, probably. He said he wants to go to this new restaurant that just opened up.” 
“He’s the one that gave you all those love bites?” 
At your nod, Yuta rolls his eyes. He’s certainly in a mood today. Poor thing. He’s been working really hard lately. Not just today, but every day this past week, he’s been studying non stop. You should reward him. 
“Don’t go with him,” Yuta coaxes. “Hang out with your best friend instead. We can have another sleepover. Don’t you want to game all night?
The decision is made before Yuta even offers you a choice. You text Getou a quick apology, to which he replies with a lazy ‘lol. Loverboy?’
You’re happy Yuta asked you to come over. You’ve spent so much time fearing how he’d react if he knew that you’d forgotten how nice it felt to just hang out with him. 
You’re cuddling with Yuta on his couch as you watch a movie. He opted for a quiet night instead of gaming, so he broke out the snacks and remotes instead of controllers. You wish there was a way to push him away without explaining what’s going on. You and Yuta have always been touchy like this, comfortable with each other in a way that superseded even the closest of friends. 
It was never abnormal until now, when new love has redefined every aspect of your relationship with him. It makes it awkward to touch him, to be this close. But you always want to be this close. It’s hard, fighting a war with yourself. 
You snuggle into the hoodie he lent you, trying to hide your face. Your eyes dart to him, watching him instead of the movie. His hair has a faint blue sheen from the screen. He’s enraptured, staring open mouthed at the action sequence. 
Your heart beats double time, as it always does around him, prey instincts going into fight or flight. Yuta just does that to you, makes your body sing like it’s in the most exquisite agony possible. Like a runner’s high, you’re addicted to the pain of having him but not having him. Even the scraps of romance you can get are worth more than a lifetime of other lovers. 
You hope he can’t tell. Yuta has always had weirdly sensitive senses. 
Yuta’s line of sight shifts from the TV to you. You feel like a deer in headlights, trapped in the yawning black void of his gaze as he looks back, watching you as you have been watching him. 
‘Hey,’ he mouthes at you, the corners of his mouth lifting into a soft smile. 
‘Hey back,’ you mouth in return, wanting him, loving him, missing him. 
You rarely bring clothes when you’re staying the night at Yuta’s. Either he has some for you in a dresser he’s saved for your use, or you can just borrow his. You always end up changing into his clothes, anyways, so big and comfortable they swallow you up. 
He’s lying on his belly on the bed when you come out of the bathroom freshly showered and in his T-shirt. He looks up when he hears you. 
“Oh,” he says. He blinks once, hard. “Come here, please.” 
Self conscious, you cross the room to him. Your crush makes you miserable, coloring your every action. The fear that your desires are written across your face shadow every step you take. Are you that transparent? Can he tell? 
He reaches up to touch your face, reverent.
“You’re so beautiful,” he breathes, then he pulls you down onto the bed next to him. 
“Don’t tease,” you tell him. 
He buries his face in the crook of your neck, embracing you. Even this feels too much. His skin against yours feels like a thousand colts of electricity. Where his nose brushes against your nape is so sensitive you squirm in his grasp, kicking uselessly in his hold. 
“I only say things that are true,” he tells you solemnly. “You are pretty.” 
You don’t know how you’re supposed to sleep after that. 
In the morning, you’re finally back in your own set of clothes to head out and face the day. You and Yuta get ready together, running through your morning routines. You brush your teeth and eat breakfast side by side. 
Before he leaves for work, he spritzes himself with the cologne he leaves on the dresser. When you reach for the perfume you keep in his apartment, a twinning his and hers set you had gotten together one day during the holidays, he pins your hand down. With an appeasing glance over you, he spritzes his cologne on you instead. 
He leans in and sniffs experimentally. 
“You smell nice,” he says. 
You lift your wrist to your nose and inhale. 
“I smell like you,” you say, laughing. He smells like a crisp winter morning, a hint of pine and frost. 
“Well, yeah,” he says. “I wouldn’t have picked this scent if I didn’t like it.” 
It’s true. Nothing Yuta does is unintentional.
“What the hell,” Getou says as soon as he opens the door to you. “You reek.” 
Your face burns. 
Getou roars with laughter when you tell him why you smell the way you do. “What a brat,” he says. 
“Hey!” You feel the compulsion to defend Yuta against even the smallest of slights. It’s instinctual, even though you know Getou doesn’t really mean it. 
He shakes his head at you. “I really pity you, you know? You’re so whipped.”  
Hanging out with Getou doesn’t end in anything physical tonight. He injured himself playing volleyball with Gojo and he’s not interested in anything but good company. You don’t know if you’d be interested, either. It’s always easier to pretend you don’t want him after a little bit of distance. Trying anything right after seeing Yuta would only tear your heart apart. You and Getou pass the time in amicable silence, working on your separate assignments in the same room. 
Your phone buzzes three hours in. 
Yuta 4:15 You busy? 
You 4:24 With Getou Working on homework  Why?
Yuta 4:24  Come over  I miss you 
You 4:24  I saw you this morning 
Yuta 4:24  …
Yuta 4:25 …
Yuta 4:25  I always miss you when you’re not here 
Getou cackles. You jolt, startled. You had honestly forgotten where you were. 
“Is that loverboy?” He says, trying to grab the phone out of your hand so he can see the message. “You look so lovestruck.” 
You yank it back from him. “I gotta go.” 
“Abandoning me again?” He shakes his head in mock sadness. “I’m really just a toy to you, huh?”
That makes you hesitate, even though you do want to see Yuta. 
He ruffles your hair. “Ah, youth. So gullible. I’m fine, sweetheart. Go see your beau. And send him my regards,” he says with a devious smile as he walks you to the door. His eyes light up when he sees the forgotten garment he had discarded on his coat rack. 
You look at him quizzically. It’s not strange for him to be a gentlemen, but it is strange for him to offer you his letterman before you leave. He loves that jacket. He wears it so often that his name emblazoned across the back has been worn down into a soft cream instead of eggshell white. 
“What’s this for?”
“Just wear it. And tell me how Yuta reacts.” 
With that, he pushes you out of the door. 
Yuta wrinkles his nose at you in a display of badly disguised contempt. He was so excited to see you when you walked through the door, but as soon as he saw what you were wearing, his smile dropped off his face. 
“What’s with that guy?” He grumbles. “It’s so weird that he’s giving you his letterman. Isn’t that almost like a claim in the sports world?” 
For some reason, it pisses you off. On most days, Yuta could commit a crime and you’d help him cover it up, but this time you seriously can’t tell where he gets off acting like this. He’s not dating you. He’s not interested in you. He doesn’t even see you as a potential partner. 
You jab your finger into his chest, punctuating every word you speak by prodding him. “Why do you think you can judge Getou? You don’t even know him.” 
“I know that he’s going after a taken girl.” 
“We’re just friends, Yuta.” The admission stings. No matter what anyone else thinks of your relationship with Yuta, that’s all you will be. 
“Yeah, but no one else thinks so.”
“And who’s fault is that?”
“Is it so bad to be seen with me?”
“It is if I’m trying to get a boyfriend! You’re the reason no one wants to date me!” 
“Do you need to date someone?” he says. Every word out of his mouth only makes you’re more incensed. He’s being condescending without meaning to, but it doesn’t soften the blow. 
“I want to!” 
“And if I don’t want you to?” 
“Excuse me?” 
“I think I’m in love with you.” 
Your head is spinning. “That’s not funny.” 
“I don’t want you to be with Getou,” he says. “I want you to be with me. You’re right, it’s not fair, but I get this ugly feeling in my chest when you’re together and now I know why. I can be so much better for you than he is.”
“This isn’t about who’s better! You’re always-“ You’re on the brink of tears. “Ugh! You’re so frustrating, Yuta! I’m trying to get over you and you think you’re being noble by dating me because you want to keep me safe? Why would I ever want that?” 
“That’s not what I meant,” he says, so soft it makes you want to run into his arms and run away from him at the same time. Then he frowns. “Did you say you’re trying to get over me?” 
You glance at him, then the door. The calculations you run in your head say you can make it outside before he catches you. You turn so fast on your ankle the floor makes a despairing screech beneath the soles of your shoes as you beat a hasty exit.
The calculations in your head are wrong. He loops his arms around your waist and picks you up, throwing you effortlessly over his shoulder so he can carry you to the couch. You’re deposited with a soft grunt as he climbs over you and pins you down so you can’t even think of escaping. You thrash, regardless. 
“Let me go, Yuta!”
“I thought you called me Yu,” he teases. 
“You aren’t being cute!”
“Is it him?”
“Him?”
“I’ve been trying to get you to look at me that way this whole time,” Yuta says despairingly. “I didn’t want to scare you away, but I couldn’t hold myself back anymore. But before I even got a chance, this asshole steals you away?” 
“Yuta, what are you talking about?”
“Are you in love with Getou?” 
“Are you stupid?” You can feel hot tears well up in your eyes. It’s frustrating to be crying so easily because you’re embarrassed and angry. “I said I was trying to get over you! Just say what you have to say, don’t torture me like this.” 
“Did it work? Are you over me?”
“I’ll never be over you,” you sniffle. You just want him to leave you alone now so you can wallow in your own patheticness.
“I’m glad,” Yuta says, and then he cups your face in his hands so delicately, like he’s holding the most precious treasure in the world, and kisses you like he’s trying to steal the breath from you. 
Your knees crumble underneath you. He catches you easily and hoists you up, letting you settle with your legs wrapped around his waist. He holds you up with just one arm as he presses you harder against the wall, cushioning your head carefully. You’re pinned between his body and the wall. You moan against him, pleased and warm and disgustingly in love with him. All your senses are full of him as you cling to him.. 
Distantly, as if through water, you hear your phone buzz.
Getou 6:01 You owe me for that, by the way. 
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