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#the sorry boys x reader
sardonic-the-writer · 29 days
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𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞
↳ notes: just wanted to do something in honor of sorry boys going on hiatus. this is entirely based on their last video so watch that to understand the silly headcanon time. cc!wilbur likers will be blocked by the way, thanks. get out of here
↳ warnings: none. just the four members here. four original, and only, members of sorry boys. no one else
↳ song: campus—vampire weekend
masterlist | commissions | carrd
• You'd think that an afternoon shift at a trampoline park would be easy; especially on the down days. Hanging around the snack bar with your employees, blowing whistles at loud kids, and keeping whatever was left in the lost and found bin became something of a daydream to you upon first getting hired
• It was a better alternative to the fast food joint you had worked previously at a crazed food van—you'd rather do anything but that after quitting
• Your first tip that things weren't going to be that easy should have been the camera crew that shuffled in on your second week, lead in part by a blonde guy with a stack of pre-signed waivers in his hand
• "What's up with that?" You turned to your only other coworker at the hour, a lanky guy with a mask and fluffed up hair. You thought you remember his name starting with an R or something along the lines of that, but mostly you referred to him as 'dude' or 'hey you.' He never felt the need to correct you, so you just never stopped
• "Oh yeah." He'd responded with a tired voice while barely even looking around. "Uh, we have a group that comes in every few days and rents out the place. I've seen them bouncing around, and I'm not really sure they're, uh, stable I guess you could say."
• Glancing down from the reception desk and to the play floor below, you caught a glimpse of the three others he spoke of, one being the blonde kid from earlier, surrounded by a few cameras and doing some rather weak jump moves. One in a red fat suit fell over at one point and refused to get up as he rolled around on the floor whining
• "Er," You took a step out of the reception desk area as you pointed a finger down at the scene. "Shouldn't one of us be down there? Supervising, and all that." You neglected to mention that one of the men looked old enough to be your father and should probably be mediating them
• For a moment you thought your coworker would shrug and tell you to go on, but he just sighed and grabbed his whistle like a weary office worker preparing for a morning round
• "At least this time I won't be alone." He looked at you. The eyebags under his eyes made you feel like he'd done this a lot more than he'd ever wanted to, despite only being at work a few weeks more than you
• The next few minutes went by fine. You were mostly ignored by the two fellows in fat suits as they proceeded to say 'dude' and 'bro' far too much, and was only offered a high five by the same blonde— Tungo you now knew. At one point the cameramen pulled you and the other worked over for a small interview, the likes of which you seemed to enjoy more than him
• The first time either of you really had to step in was when the red fat suit one delved into his shell, yelling something about yoinking his pork
• "Chungus? Chungo?" You managed to say his name without somehow laughing. "Please don't do that. We're gonna have some problems if you continue to."
• As Chounce popped his head out like a cartoon character to look at you, you offered a wobbly smile, and was severely relieved when he finally brought his hands out of his suit to cross them
• "For the record dude I wasn't even pulling my plug." He frowned, having the decency to look midly embarrassed. "I was just thinking about my feelings, bro."
• You got a thankful look from your fellow employee at your successful endeavors
• The both of you continued to watch as a competition between Chounce and Tungo occurred, eventually somehow turning into a fight between them as the self proclaimed Master Za watched
• In reality, you were pretty sure their real names all aligned somewhere along the lines of Tommy Charlie and Phil, if the signatures on their wavers spoke for anything, but none of them seemed to call each other anything but nonsense
• At one point, you were compelled enough by the entertainment to purchase a bag of popcorn from the snack desk, earning a look at disappointment from your coworker as he saw
• "Please don't encourage them." He dragged a hand down his face, careful not to knock his mask off
• "I don't think it'd matter if I did or didn't." You smiled through a mouthful. "Just look at 'em." You waved at the kid zone they'd all migrated too in the last hour or two, currently kissing Master Za on the face as he yelped in protest
• "Wait." Your hand lowered slowly as you blinked. "That's not allowed—"
• The two of you took off in their direction, using your whistles for what felt like the hundredth time that day as you ran
• By the time closing hours came around, it was dark enough outside to make you yawn. It took a significant amount of convincing to get the three of them, mostly Chounce, to leave and stop bouncing, but it eventually worked with a few well placed bribes. Namely, handfuls from your unfinished chip bag from earlier
• "You weren't all that bad! Not a wrong'un after all." Tungo eventually confided in you in front of everyone as you went to close up, looking strangely proud about such a mediocre compliment. You grinned at him anyways, finding him to be one of the saner ones throughout the whole ordeal
• "Maybe next time I could judge a match of yours, yeah?" You offered as you thumbed through the cash in the register
• "Please do not encourage them." A familiar voice from outside sounded for the second time that day, making you suck air between your teeth in an attempt not to snort with laughter
• "And remember to check the bathrooms before you leave. One of them likes to hide in them after we close."
• "Sorry, what—"
• You ended up having to drag Chounce out bt his ankles that night and into Master Za's car so he could get home
• "You know what? It's still better than the food truck."
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slytherinslut0 · 12 days
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not to be horny on main or anything because i’ve definitely never done that before but i truly think everyone wants to fuck mattheo riddle until that man has fucked you three times in one day and still wants another round because he genuinely just can’t get enough of your body like literally the man just needs to be inside you like he’d fucking perish off the earth if he went longer than a few hours without burying himself in your warmth and even though you’re starting to get sore there’s simply just no goddamn chance you could ever resist him because the way he’s cooing filth in your ear about how he’ll be gentle and how he’ll fuck you slow as he has you pinned underneath him with both of your wrists held down against the mattress while he nips and kisses and sucks at your neck is enough to shatter your resolve and empty your brain of any rational thoughts replacing them with none other than pure primalized lust and without even realizing it you’re quivering and whining and begging him to get back inside you.
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dreamisols · 8 months
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permission ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
—your boyfriend has a cute but questionable habit —wc: 1,140 ; sleepy proofread —fluff, birthday fluff, rin is (squeezes him gently), some personal headcanons, and slight younger rinnie personality headcanons —rimi's ramble: happiest birthday to rin itoshi my boy uee i love him so much <3 also halfway into writing this i realized how soft i always make him but i'd gladly ramble about that too
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it's been well over a year into your relationship with rin itoshi.
and at this juncture, you could say that he's opened up to you about nearly everything. it took time, and you were as patient as ever in his eyes. he showed you everything about himself: the good, the bad, what he wants to be, and who he used to be. you can't be fooled by his grumpy persona and harsh body language, not when he finally bared his whole raw heart for you to hold and love. you two knew practically everything about each other.
which might be why you noticed rin slowly picking up some of his old habits from childhood.
for instance, he'd wake you up sometimes from your summer midday naps to offer going out and buying some popsicles from a convenience store nearby to battle the afternoon heat. despite your lazy protests, you'd drag your feet and go with him. and you'd watch as his teal eyes carefully scan the selection of icy treats inside the freezer despite knowing he'd always grab the blue twin pops.
another is when he'd take you to aquariums for dates more often. he once told you in passing that his brother used to love taking him to aquariums when they both couldn't sit and overlook the beach. and now because of how frequently you two have dates there, you two are practically regarded as regulars by the employees (they've joked to rin once about how he should propose to you in one of their scenic spots in the future; rin choked on the water he was drinking).
but the most prominent one is how rin would have this mindless habit of asking permission for the most no-brainer, useless, and quite frankly, idiotically endearing things.
you didn't question it at first. they were honestly all reasonable things to ask from someone who's in a relationship for the first time. albeit he was extremely awkward the first few times around, with him struggling to get the words out, you eventually got used to his small requests and questions.
a small "may i come in?" after every time he knocks on your door whenever he's over at your place.
a shy offer of "do you want me to brush your hair?" when he notices you dozing off a bit after a fresh evening shower.
even a "is it alright if i stay out late with the team?" text once every blue moon whenever he's dragged to their shenanigans (completely against his will).
rin may be struggling with socializing and understanding others' social cues well enough, but mama itoshi didn't raise a disrespectful boy.
you really haven't paid much attention to this habit of his until his birthday.
"i... i can do anything with you..?" rin questions, almost in disbelief. nodding, you parrot his words back, "yep! it's your special day today, so everything's your call!"
"anything...?" he asks again. and like earlier, you nod once more.
there was a beat of silence that accompanied the shocked look rin gave you.
"obviously, everything within reason..!" you cough nervously, afraid rin might've gotten the wrong idea or got too pressured by your supposed surprise, "we also don't have to go out or anything... like i said, whatever you-"
"can... we hold hands...?"
you stop your frantic rambling when your mind processed his words. your gaze is directly at him, but he's staring at the ground like he finally discovered something groundbreaking. the way he spoke sounded as if he was in utter disbelief. it was like if his crush told him that they liked him back, or like he was told that he won the grand prize of something big.
which is confusing.
"y-yes we can?" you quirk one of your brows with a rather unsure smile, "we often hold our hands together, rinnie. we even interlock fingers."
your boyfriend still has that dumb surprised look casted on the wooden floor, "oh.. yeah..."
you were about to question the tone of his voice when he perks up so suddenly and goes on a tangent,
"can we wear matching scarfs when we go out, then? it's practical for the temperature. can we use the one you bought us... that one with the sanrio dog you said reminded you of me because of soccer— pochacco?"
he sits upright and looks up at you with eyes filled with so much anticipation that you can't bear to look away, "we can wear that, right?"
you nod again, "yes rinnie, we can wear that out. like you said, it's cold anyways-"
your excited boyfriend cuts you off once more, like an overly excited child, "if it's cold, can we cuddle? oh, maybe we can also get a mini cake from the bakery nearby? or better yet a parfait— can we share? i don't like overly sweet food..." he gasps softly, like he's struck with the most genius idea, and looks up at you once more for permission.
"can i kiss you..? but.. like, a lot-"
you finally squish his cheeks to stop his mouth from blabbering more and more words that make you both want to squeal at his cuteness and shake him like a dog does with a chew toy because of how annoyingly stupidly adorable he is.
"rin itoshi." the man sits straight at the use of his full name. "i love you with all my heart but oh my god if you ask permission from me for yet another stupid thing i might kiss you and or muffle you with the couch pillow." as if for good measure that your point gets across, you flick rin's forehead softly.
"you know that you're free to spoil yourself, match anything with me, and indulge in any form of affection you're comfortable with." you leave a soft kiss on his cheek, which elicits a gasp from your boyfriend.
"so no more of these useless questions, okay?"
rin nods three times, still looking at you with all the love in the world. your black cat of a boyfriend has magically morphed into this puppy of a man, you can practically envision his imaginary tail wagging from excitement. but you don't mind this side of rin—the side of his that allows his inner emotions, his inner youth run free. if anything, it's a testament to how much he's grown comfortable with you.
your lips form a small smile, your eyes reflect all your love back at him.
just as you were about to change the topic, you catch his teal eyes drift to your lips, back up to your eyes, then down to the floor.
three seconds pass.
"can we-" "you just want the kiss on the lips, don't you?"
if it results in more opportunities for kisses, then yes, he doesn't mind asking all these stupid nonsensical questions.
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likes and reblogs are appreciated, but please don’t copy or repost my work!
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lllostgirlll · 1 year
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“stop liking my posts! this isn’t instagram! re-blog them!!!”
me using the like button as a form of bookmarking: 👁️👄👁️
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lostmyremembrall · 1 year
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WB giving me more Slytherin boys to fall in love with
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I finally know what my type is:
It's literally just angsty Slytherins Compelling characters with great arc
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ca-8 · 2 months
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"Thank You, Angel..." (Part 1 of ???)
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Silence screamed.
Drops of decay either echoed in the distance or fell inches from his withered nose. They aided in the cackles and chirps and growls that erupted from within each shadow. Each shadow that held home of the little critters with those little desperate, famished white eyes and wide toothless grins ready to devour anything with even a hint of a pulse. And when those critters couldn't stand the empty pits of their stomachs, those cackles and chirps and growls and drops of decay sang along with the tormenting squelches and tears of his miserly flesh ripping off and into those widened, toothless grins. And when they were done, after hours of slow, burning agony and screaming filling their stomachs, and the decay hushed to sleep as those horrible little critters scurried off toward their master -
silence screamed.
DogDay hated it all. He hated each sound of falling wood or concrete or spare intestine hitting the floor. He despised the critter's sounds as they drew near. But most of all, he hated the silence, because it was a constant reminder that his friends were gone and no hope gave a breath.
All alone. Always alone. With nothing but a wonder as to when he would finally draw his last breath.
Poppy's words once gave him back a lifelike glimmer. She speculated that someone had to come back here to save them all, an ex-worker, a total stranger -
an Angel, perhaps.
Just someone, anyone who can release them of this constant, lingering, rotting despair.
But so much time has passed. DogDay lost count at…he didn't even know, it's just been years and years and years, perhaps even decades. An eternity of this sickening silence since the day their revolutionary feast took place.
That glimmer was smothered out long ago.
.
.
.
.
.
Were those footsteps?
Not the little pitter-patter of those godforsaken critters, no - human footsteps. They were distant, but carefully drew near. As they closed the distance, a shriek from those little monsters echoed throughout the prison.
DogDay's head perked up, but only slightly. If he had a little more energy he'd call out for help, and more certainty too. Maybe he was finally going mad. Maybe what's left inside his head is feeding him false hope with these made up sounds hinting to a rescue.
No, not a rescue. Whatever he had left was drowned in the past.
His head slumped back down, and critter's shrieks halted. But the footsteps grew closer. DogDay didn't want to remove his gaze from the floor and risk disappointment, he knew it was nothing, that even if someone managed to sneak in here, there was no way they would survive this hell. He knew that thing was right, no one was coming to save-
"Oooooh nooo…"
His head sprung up, earning a little gasp from a
a human. An actual human, standing right there in front of him. It - They - couldn't be a hallucination, could it?
No. No hallucination. No human either. With how those lights beamed down on their glowing, moving skin and illuminating the life in those eyes, this was a blessing from Above. "Hello…?"
DogDay realized they were inching closer, but he was too stunned to flinch or tell them to get away. He could only voice his stagger.
"You…You're Poppy's Angel," he choked out through his voice box. "Come to save us…!"
The Angel blinked. "Uh, yeah…" Their eyes were widened; no surprise, anyone not too familiar with this decrepit place would be shocked to see him like this. A pathetic, filthy excuse of a dog wasting away. That's what they were thinking. They had to be. "Nothing left to save, not here…" He held his head back down.
"What're you talking about?" Their voice was as sweet as honey, so filled with life.
"You're in CatNap's home, Angel. Their home." Just saying that thing's name left a disgusting bittersweet taste in DogDay's mouth, but he was given a second chance at being useful, he had to take it.
"A million of pairs of eyes are on you right now," he continued. "Watching…waiting….hungry." A faint spark of terror flooded the (e/c) in those beautiful, breathing eyes. "They want nothing more than to crawl beneath your skin and eat away at you bit by little bit." He spat out the last word before heaving in a gasp. "…fill what feels empty inside themselves."
"I-Is that…what happened to you, DogDay….?" they asked, eyeing the bitter remains of his lower half.
They knew his name. He appreciated that, although couldn't express it too much. "I'm afraid so, Angel. Because of…that…that thing. CatNap. The Prototype is his god, and this is what he does to heretics."
The Angel snuck a glance at the darkened hallway outside their halo and quickly returned their gaze to DogDay. He continued.
"These little toys follow CatNap to avoid that very fate, and in return, they are fed." DogDay coughed. Black substance spewed out of his mouth and onto the floor. "We tried to fight it, the Prototype's control. I'm…the last of the smiling cri-"
His right arm fell to his side.
…Wait.
DogDay's ears bucked up and he turned to his side. His right arm dangled heavily right by his torso, and the belts that were supposed to be supporting it up to the ceiling were cut short. His gaze whirled to his left side and saw the Angel reaching up to cut off the other belts.
"Angel! Wh-Wh-What're you doing?" he frantically yelped, swinging his torso back and forth.
"Sorry to cut your speech-thing off so quickly, but I think we may have a problem!"
It was at that moment DogDay heard the heightening shrills and screeches from the critters. A sharp chill ran down him and his heart stopped. They were coming; so many were coming! Coming for him! He was about to die if they couldn't get away!
"Angel, please, go! Leave me! Save yourself!" he pleaded desperately. A growl erupted right next to his ear, and DogDay turned to come face-to-face with a miniature Bobby Bearhug. A scream almost escaped his throat until a small flare flew past his face and shot mini Bobby back into the darkness.
"I'm sorry, but could you stop moving so much? This is hard enough as it is!" As they said that, their knife (which he noticed was strangely colorfully patched together) cut through the first of the two left belts. His body darted right towards the floor, but not until Angel caught him with their arm.
"Angel PLEASE! I beg you!" Tears pricked his empty sockets. The shrills were so loud they might as well be on top of them.
But the Angel kept their gaze glued onto the last belt, and as soon as mini CraftyCorn entered the cell, he was finally free.
The Angel hopped down and kicked mini CraftyCorn back into DogDay's worst nightmare: a sea of predators mirroring his friend's appearances. The Angel spun around and ran the opposite direction.
"Don't worry, I got yo- OOOOOO-!!!" The floor collapsed beneath them, and they landed right onto the bottom floor. Well, more like the Angel fell right onto the floor with DogDay cushioned safely on top of them.
This couldn't possible get any worse.
DogDay tried turning his head. "Angel? Are you okay? I'm so sorry! I-I didn't mean it! I didn't mean for this to happen! I swear!" He wanted to get off of them to ease whatever pain they were in, but his arms were held up for so long, he could barely even feel anything in them anymore. 'Pathetic! I'm pathetic!'
"I'm fine…I think-!" The Angel got up and sprinted to the end of the hallway. "Just don't look back!"
They held DogDay in a position where his only option was to look back. Snuggled tightly underneath their arm, he watched as a tsunami of critters dashed towards them, snarling with hunger. Hunger for him and his Angel.
He whimpered loudly until they spun him around. "Sorry-! Sorry! I got you!" A flash of another critter was summoned to the right, then suddenly wished away by the bright flash of the Angel's flare. DogDay couldn't do anything, only let his heart squeeze and whimper at the sudden sight of painful reminders until they're blown away by the Angel. He looked up, their gaze was locked forward, doing what he should be doing.
But he couldn't. He was worthless. Just like that day.
The poor withered dog squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn't watch anymore. If it weren't for his weak arms, he would cover his ears as the screams of the damned drew ever so near, or maybe do something actually useful. He felt himself get heaved up and a sudden wind blew against his tattered face. Then, he was lowered, and the Angel gasped for air.
Where were they going? Was there even an exit? He couldn't look. He didn't want to look. If he opened his eyes he would only see the Angel get devoured and it would be all his fault.
It wasn't until they were both thrusted into the air that his eyes were finally forced open. Below them was a deep pit of darkness with the critters nearing the edge they hurled over. For a second, he thought they had jumped towards an everlasting sleep, until the Angel landed right onto a lift.
The door shut behind them, and devastating shrills and shrieks were muffled. They were….safe. DogDay was safe, and the Angel didn't die. He hadn't killed them after all.
The Angel gently lowered him onto the floor of the lift and pressed the button to lower them back into, if he could remember correctly….Playcare. They collapsed onto the floor, and the thud snapped him back to reality.
"Angel! Are you okay? Are you hurt? I'm so sorry!" DogDay tried to haul himself towards them until they let out a strange chuckle.
"That…holy shit. That was awesome! But also terrifying. And tiring. God, my legs, I'll be surprised if I can even walk once we get down there. What were those things? You called them critters? I kinda feel bad for thinking they were kinda cute now, SHEESH those little devils were relentless!"
The Angel went on and on and on and…not a hint of anger was on their face. DogDay only stared at them in disbelief. They hopped on their knees and leaned closer to him, making him flinch.
"Anyways, are you okay? I don't know why you're asking me, you're clearly the one who needs help here! How long have you been down here? Actually don't answer that. What happened to you-? Wait, wait, don't answer that either, sorry!"
"You…." He finally choked out something. "You…saved me."
"…Well yeah!" A big smile graced their lips. How were they glowing even brighter than before?
"You…You saved me…!"
"….Yeah! Go team!"
Something was building up in his throat. More tears streamed down his face, but there weren't any rivers of regret or disappointment or self-hatred… DogDay leaned into his Angel's chest.
"Oh, hello!" they said cheerfully.
DogDay sniffed and looked up, and for once, a big, genuine smile filled his face. "Thank you, Angel…! Thank you so much!"
They froze there for a second, and their stunned expression melted to that of warmth. He felt their hands wrap around him and gently caress his back. Nothing could ever feel more soothing.
Softly, they giggled. "Hey, call me (Y/n), alright? You're giving me too much credit." ͙۪۪̥ ͙ ♡𐡘 𐡘 𐡘 𐡘♡ ͙ ͙۪۪̥ ͙͙ ͙۪۪̥ ͙ ♡𐡘 𐡘 𐡘 𐡘♡ ͙ ͙۪۪̥ ͙͙ ͙۪۪̥ ͙ ♡𐡘 𐡘 𐡘 𐡘♡ ͙ ͙۪۪̥ ͙͙ ͙۪۪̥ ͙ ♡𐡘 𐡘 𐡘 𐡘♡ ͙ ͙۪۪̥ ͙͙ ͙۪۪̥ ͙
Hey guys! Like what ya saw? Well you can commission your own private piece now!! Read more about that here! Thanks so much for reading, and have a great day!~ 💜💜💜
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go for it! ; yuuta okkotsu
synopsis; yuuta’s been crushing on you ever since the first group project you had together, but he’s too nervous to confess. luckily, he has some over-eager friends willing to help! step 1: ask for your number!
word count; 7.4k
contents; yuuta okkotsu/reader, gn!reader, university au, yuuta majors in creative writing and writes poetry in his spare time <3, no curses au, yuuta is a cutiepie, he’s also a loserboy, pining and longing, one-sided love, maki inumaki and panda are wingmen (but not very good ones), fluffy vibes, gojo makes a guest appearance (stay safe), literally just yuuta being whipped for like 7k words straight
a/n; im gonna have to edit this a lot i think….. but for now it should be fine :3 i love the boy!!
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”you’re staring. again.”
yuuta flinches. a jolt overtakes him, running through his body, and the pen he’d been absently writing with slips from his fingers. it tumbles down to the ground with a soft thunk. 
gazing up at the shadow towering over him, his eyes are wide, a little flustered; like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. like he’s expecting a smack on the head from the person in front of him.
— it’s maki. 
and she looks displeased, lips pursed and a single eyebrow raised. unimpressed, as she stares him down — the same way he’d been looking at you just a second ago.
”they’re gonna think you’re a creep if they catch you, you know,” she sighs, shifting from one foot to another. carrying her bass in a case on her back.
”maki, c’mon,” comes from behind her, an even larger figure strolling up to the pair. grinning brightly, fluffy hair tousled by the afternoon breeze. ”cut him some slack!” 
”salmon,” a third voice joins in. inumaki’s got some green paint staining the sleeve of his hoodie, and his fingers are dirtied with charcoal.
his closest friends, all joining him on the table they usually frequent on campus. right next to a giant tree, casting a pleasantly cool shade and obscuring the irritating brightness of the sun.
maki, headstrong and resilient. infamously rude. a music major, primarily, though yuuta knows she has more than a couple minors. if you pay attention, you can see her almost everywhere on campus, and she always does well on exams. confident, enough so that just being around her makes yuuta feel a little more secure in himself.
panda, a big kid with a big heart, always wearing monochrome clothes. ‘panda’ can’t possibly be his real name, though yuuta’s never found the courage to ask. truthfully, he isn’t sure panda even has a major, or goes to this university at all — but nobody’s mentioned it yet, and he doubts they ever will.
and then inumaki, the quiet kid, always helpful and kind. a little teasing, too. selectively mute, speaking exclusively in rice ball ingredients, but yuuta has already begun adjusting to the thought behind his phrases. an art student with remarkable talent, from sculptures to comics to paintings. he mostly spends his lectures playing games on his phone, though. and he's the kindest guy yuuta knows.
his beloved friends. the reason he can smile through each day, even when it’s a little difficult.
and maki’s right, he knows she is. if you were to lock eyes with him, and realize he’d been glancing over at you for the past ten minutes… god, he doesn’t even want to think about it. you’d be weirded out for sure, wouldn’t you?
but yuuta just can’t help it. you’re far too radiant to ever look away from, smile much too pretty.
you’re just sitting there, laughing and talking with your friends, the same as any other day. comparing hand sizes with miwa, or leaning over to whisper in mai’s ear. snorting over something momo said, or trying to understand the code kokochi’s fiddling with on his laptop. just being yourself, with people you’re close to.
and yuuta desperately wishes he could be among them. wishes he could see your honeyed smile up close, hear the melodic lilt of your laughter, breathe in the lingering scent of your shampoo. he wishes he could speak to you without stuttering, without tripping over his feet — hang out with you outside of class. just something small, like studying together, or grabbing a bite to eat.
he wishes he could get to know you. 
yuuta thinks he must seem like a fool, to be so affected by your mere presence. everything comes to him so easily, when he looks at you; the pitter patter of his heart, his sweaty hands, the whirlwind of butterflies swirling in his chest. even just the way you twirl your hair or chew on your pencil is so mesmerizing. 
so all he can do is stare, hopeless, a moth to a flame. basking in the warmth of your gaze, directed at your friends.
hoping one day, maybe… that warmth will fall upon him, as well.
(maybe one day.)
”hellooo? earth to yuuta!”
”see? he’s hopeless.”
”mentaiko…”
”inumaki’s right. he’s a man in love!”
”he’s a boy with a stupid crush,” maki scoffs, picking at a piece of lint on her tank top. ”and we have a study session we need to get done. the exam’s next week, remember?”
exam.
yuuta shoots up, wasting no time in grabbing his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder. the ring hanging around his neck dangles with the sudden movement, and he clutches onto it.
”ah — right!” he squeaks, apologetic. ”sorry, it completely slipped my mind —”
before his mind can begin to overthink every action he’s taken these past few hours, a hand reaches out to pat his shoulder. pat, pat. reassuring and stabilizing.
inumaki smiles at him. yuuta can’t see his mouth, from behind the fabric of his hoodie, but his eyes crinkle softly; and it’s enough to put yuuta’s heart at ease.
”don’t apologize,” maki says. simple, straightforward. ”let’s just get going. i need to do better than naoya did last time.”
”you’re still mad about that, huh?”
”he only got a higher score because i wasn’t on top of my game,” she grumbles, digging her nails into the pockets of her baseball jacket. ”he doesn’t even like music. he’s just taking the course to piss me off. grown ass man.”
a chuckle slips from yuuta’s lips. the warm breeze ruffles his hair, and he holds onto the strap of his backpack, following closely behind as his friends begin to leave. sending one final glance at your figure, over by a table near the apricot trees.
and that’s when it happens.
— he looks over at you, and finds that your eyes are already on him. 
a moment passes.
while yuuta struggles to find his breathing, your lips curl up into a soft smile. then you raise your hand, waving to him cheerily, teeth peeking out from between your lips. he can see it clearly, even with the distance between you. 
a smile that glimmers like a jewel, in the light of the sun. 
yuuta feels his lips part, mouth falling open ever so slightly. but he waves back, afraid to take too long, unable to stop the pounding of his heartbeat — smiling giddily, like a schoolgirl tripping over her feet. 
his friends just watch, wholly unimpressed.
”do you think he’d notice if i threw a rock at him?”
”maki!”
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”what do you like about them, anyway?”
the question is unexpected. yuuta has to do a double take, eyes straying from his excerpt of sappho 31 up to the person seated across from him. tapping her pencil on the edge of the table, resting her sharp jaw on the heel of her palm. 
”huh?”
”them. your crush,” maki reiterates. ”what caught your attention? there’s got to be something, yeah?”
”oh?” panda chirps, leaning back in his chair. a teasing grin playing at his lips. “i thought you didn’t care about his silly little crush.”
”i don’t.” a huff pushes past her lips, hands reaching to fix her lazy ponytail, hair tie dangling from between her teeth. ”i’m just bored. i already know all this, anyway.”
”tuna mayo.”
”oh, are you curious too, inumaki?”
”well, out with it. why them?”
yuuta blinks. once, then twice — mind spinning in circles, as his friends await his answer.
and, truthfully, yuuta can’t pinpoint the exact moment he felt it. that burst of joy, that tinge of excitement — the puppy love that rika always spoke of. she was always good at verbalizing her emotions, in a way yuuta never could.
(he always knew he loved her, but he could never put it into words.)
and he knows that he likes you. he knows because every word you speak has him stumbling over what to say, because even a single smile sent his way makes the world feel so gentle. he knows because he’d probably throw himself into incoming traffic, if you just asked him to.
but he can’t put it into words. not spoken ones, anyhow — putting them on paper is one thing, the one thing he can do. writing out his love for you in similes and metaphors, sonettes and alexandrines. it’s how he copes with everything; writing and writing, til his fingers start to hurt. he can compare you to a dandelion, to the way cicadas buzz in the light of the sun. the scent of childhood. but it’s harder to speak it out loud, to turn the feelings into sounds — that’s maki’s specialty, not his.
why does yuuta like you?
he remembers it clear as day, but still can’t pinpoint the exact second he fell headfirst into love. it was more of a creeping realization, something soft and sweet trickling through his veins. that sinking feeling, how helplessly he fell for you.
it all started with a pencil.
in hindsight, it’s a little silly. but yuuta can’t bring himself to think back to that moment with anything other than fondness.
(your smile was just so bright.)
that day had been a disaster. he was nervous, painfully so, afraid of every single new thing he came across during his first week of uni. scatterbrained, running on almost no sleep, unsure of where to put his feet as he walked.
honestly — what kind of trainwreck forgets their pen and notebook during their very first workshop?
all that anxiety, all those hours spent overthinking, and he still couldn’t manage something so small. in the moment, he almost panicked; sitting with you, a total stranger, wholly unprepared for such a simple assignment. read a couple excerpts, analyze them on paper. all yuuta could do was stare blankly at his lap, frozen, throat dry. hands cold with sweat.
but then you smiled.
”did you forget your notebook?” you had asked, voice set to a soothing tilt. calm, not angry or impatient.
”ah — yeah, i, um…” yuuta could only swallow thickly, fidgeting with the strings of his hoodie. ”i’m sorry. i haven't been sleeping well, so —”
”hey, hey, it’s fine!” you chuckled, teeth peeking out from between your lips. ”i totally get it. i almost forgot my laptop at yesterday’s lecture. we can just share!”
then you pushed your notebook closer to him, inviting him in. moving your chair a little, angling it towards him. but all yuuta could think of was how pretty your smile looked, how kind your presence felt.
”here you go,” you grinned, snapping him out of his trance. ”you can use this.”
a pencil. yuuta took it from your opened palm, gazing at it in wonder. an orange-coloured, halloween-themed pumpkin design. completely out of season. the tiny pumpkin was cute, though.
such a casual kindness. but maybe that's exactly why it made his heart flutter so deeply; as if you did it without even really thinking. as if kindness comes easy, to you.
that’s probably how it began. by the time the workshop ended, yuuta knew that he liked you, and he knew that he wanted nothing more than to be your friend.
(subconsciously, his fingers tap at the zipper of his backpack. the pumpkin pen is still with him, after you waved him off with a smooth you can keep it, if you want. yuuta has found that he always writes best when he uses it.)
”well?”
maki’s voice snaps him out of his trip down memory lane, and he stumbles for something to say. what does he like about you?
squirming, yuuta feels his face heat up, as he thinks of you. all he can see is your smile, the kindness in the tilt of your voice. the brightness of the grin you sent his way. warm and saccharine, like the sun peeking out after a downpour — when the streets smell like honeydew and rain.
”they’re just… so cool,” he finally sighs, a dreamy look smoothing over his face. ”they’re so nice. and their smile is so beautiful. they’re so smart, too — god, you should see the way they write — everything about them is just…”
yuuta blushes a deep red, smiling even still. lovesick. ”.. so, so wonderful.”
maki freezes in the midst of the tapping of her pencil. panda stops kicking at the foot of the table. and inumaki looks away from his phone, messing up his full combo.
a moment of silence passes. the study hall grows quiet, and yuuta looks down at his lap; suddenly embarrassed. sipping from his little carton of apple juice.
”hey…” panda starts, delicate. somehow, yuuta dreads the teasing edge to his voice. ”have you thought about confessing to them, yuuta?”
”what?” the boy in question squeaks, choking on his juice. ”no, of course not!”
”why?” maki deadpans. popping a chip into her mouth. ”you’re head over heels, right? might as well do something about it.”
inumaki hums. affirmative.
”i… don’t know,” yuuta sighs. a heavy breath, a little wobbly. meek. ”they’d just reject me, wouldn’t they? i mean…”
(you’re totally out of his league. right?)
maki scoffs, sitting up a little straighter. there’s an angered kind of affection in her eyes. ”you’re just deciding that all on your own. how would you know how they feel?”
the gaze she sends his way is intense. it always has been. there’s a kindness to it, though, something that makes yuuta want to look her in the eye — but he can’t, eyes still locked on his hands, resting in his lap. ”… still,” he manages a weak smile, somewhat sheepish. ”even if i wanted to, there’s no way i could. i’m too much of a coward.”
maki slams her textbook shut. the sound is sudden, loud. yuuta flinches, and a wince leaves inumaki’s lips. panda just watches her, snacking on some chips, a mild curiousity simmering in his eyes.
the girl in question gets up from her seat, grabbing her bass case and throwing it over her shoulder. then she looks at yuuta, eyes full of decision.
”— well, lucky for you, we’ve got some time to spare.”
a blink. yuuta gazes up at the girl in front of him, tilting his head in confusion.
maki sighs. exasperated. ”i’m saying we’ll help you. don’t look so resigned, dumbass.”
at that, panda gets up too — suddenly excited. ”are you thinking what i’m thinking?”
she just huffs, smiling even still. ”probably not. but let’s hear it.”
the grin on his face widens. he scribbles something down in his notebook, showing off the writing proudly. ”operation: get yuuta to confess is about to commence!”
inumaki turns off his phone. sitting up straight, arms decisively crossed, a strangely serious expression on his face. completely invested.
”wait — wait!” yuuta stutters, eyes wide with flustered shock. ”don’t i get a say in this?”
”of course not.”
”nope!”
”bonito flakes.”
”b… but —”
”alright, so here’s what i’m thinking,” panda begins, writing down unintelligible notes on the pages of his tattered notebook. ”we need to start small. we don’t want yuuta getting heart palpitations and fainting in the middle of campus, so —”
”tuna mayo?”
”yeah, that’s perfect! hang on, lemme just…”
”let me see. i don’t want you messing this up.”
yuuta’s voice comes out tiny, as it falls from his lips. more of a squeaky breath. ”guys, i really — you don’t need to —”
panda continues to scribble in the notebook, engrossed, arm hanging off maki’s shoulder as they go over the contents. inumaki nods along, walking over to them with lazy steps. yuuta’s protests go unnoticed, and all he can do is watch them mutter under their breaths.
”— okay. listen up, yuuta.”
he raises his head, and meets maki’s sharp eyes. she’s smiling, strolling over to place the notebook right in front of him. ”here’s how this is gonna go.”
yuuta looks down. 
everything is written out with a pink sharpie, glittery and pretty. there are little hearts doodled out across the pages, and he can tell exactly which ones were drawn by who. all of them look messy, with the exception of inumaki’s perfect little shapes. 
and there, right in the middle, lies a line of text.
panda reads it out, voice loud and cheery, while maki and inumaki stick close. all smiling, as a chill crawls down yuuta’s spine.
”step 1: ask for their number!”
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plan a
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”okay, so… what am i supposed to do, exactly?”
panda throws an arm over yuuta’s shoulder, and he’s enveloped by the scent of fresh sunlight. the weight is heavy, a comfort. ”we’re going with my plan first! it’s the best one, so don’t worry.”
”i don’t know about that,” maki scoffs. ”we can’t ask mai. best case scenario, she’ll laugh at us a little and say no.”
inumaki hums. he rips out a part of the notebook he’s been tasked with carrying, doodling a little face and showing it to the rest of his friends.
yuuta leans in close. it’s a cute doodle, charming. and he can tell who it’s supposed to depict. miwa kasumi.
”yeah, she’s our best bet,” maki sighs, brushing some specks of dust off her jeans. ”she seems like the nicest one in that group.”
yuuta tilts his head, brows furrowed in confusion. he plays with the ring hanging around his neck, a nervous tick he’s never managed to get rid of. ”wait, so…” he trails off, unsure. ”what are we doing, exactly?”
panda tugs him closer, a friendly smile on his face. ”we’re going to their friends for help!” he beams. ”that’ll be easier for you, right?”
a blink. yuuta gazes into the eyes of his friend, something soft blooming in his eyes.
they can be a chaotic bunch — but they’re still so considerate. considerate enough to know asking for your number straight out would be too much for him. considerate enough to think of his comfort, in a way no one else has bothered to before.
(faced with such immense understanding, such genuine friendship, how could he ever bear to let them down?)
”… alright,” yuuta gulps, clutching his ring as if to give him courage. managing a smile. ”let’s do this, then!”
with newfound determination, the four of them seek out miwa kasumi. it doesn’t take too long — she’s studying, going over legal codes in the library, eyes narrowed in concentration. and she isn’t alone.
”hey, miwa. muta.”
the pair look up from their respective textbooks and laptop, meeting the gaze of a certain maki zenin, waltzing over to their table. miwa smiles, but kokichi doesn’t say anything.
”hi, maki! how are you?”
”i’m good,” she answers, straight to the point; but her eyes soften a little. then she gestures towards yuuta with a tilt of her head. ”sorry, but this guy needs your help.” 
”hm?” miwa shifts in her seat, meeting yuuta’s nervous gaze, as he steps forward. ”ah, you’re… okkotsu, right?”
”ah, yeah! sorry for interrupting you two…”
”no, no! please, don’t worry about it,” she grins. sweet and soft, twirling a lock of her hair between her fingers. ”we don't mind. right?”
kokichi still doesn’t say anything. but he nods, when miwa meets his eyes — and yuuta notices that they seem a lot softer when she does.
”so, here’s how it is…”
panda explains the situation to the pair. yuuta looks down at the floor, face flushed as he shifts from foot to foot. by the time he’s finished, miwa looks wholly invested, and kokichi looks a little less like all he wants is for them to leave him and miwa be.
”awww, that’s so sweet!!” she gushes, clasping her hands together. eyes glimmering with excitement.
”right,” maki hums. already a little impatient. ”so, basically — we need their number.”
”… ah. well, um —” miwa trails off, averting her gaze. she looks over at kokichi, but he only shrugs, going back to his coding. ”see, here’s the thing…”
with an apologetic look in her eyes, she turns to yuuta. ”i support you 100% — but i dunno if it’d feel right to just… give away their number like that, you know?” she mumbles, sheepishly. ”i think you should ask them, yourself. that’d be way more romantic!”
”yeah, but that’s a tall hurdle for a socially anxious guy…” panda mutters, patting yuuta’s back.
”still! i’m sure they’d appreciate you being direct.” miwa closes her eyes, a dreamy expression painted on her face. ”i’d be elated if someone asked for my number like that!! all stuttering and shy… it’d be so cute!”
(if anyone notices kokichi stiffening beside her, they don’t mention it.)
maki sighs, resigned. ”well, i don’t think we’re getting any numbers here. good. what kind of creep just texts someone out of nowhere, anyway?”
”i thought it was a good plan!” panda protests, pouting a little. maki shoots him a look.
”it was an awful plan. what were you planning to say? hey, i forced your friend to give me your number, but would you want to hang out sometime?” she crosses her arms with a sharp scoff. ”i’d beat your ass!”
panda grumbles a little under his breath, but doesn’t say anything. 
”sorry i couldn’t be of more help,” miwa mumbles, sheepishly, rubbing the back of her head. ”good luck, though! i hope they say yes!”
”thanks, miwa,” yuuta smiles, already in the process of being tugged away by his friends. ”i really appreciate it!”
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plan a
plan b
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”alright, inumaki’s turn. what’s your take on the situation, mister?”
the boy in question sits up straight, back resting against a tree trunk. he writes something down, and yuuta waits, patiently — absentmindedly staring at the white petals of the apricot trees on campus. pure, fleeting, sweet blossoms unfurling before him.
when he’s finished, inumaki presents the page to yuuta, and everyone gathers round. reading the writing, eyes trailing over his little doodles. panda grins, and maki strokes her chin in contemplation.
”you’re a genius, inu!”
”well, it’s probably the easiest way to go about it…”
yuuta purses his lips. it’s a good plan, he thinks; writing out a note, and passing it to you in the middle of class. that way, he won’t have to turn his feelings into sounds, won’t have to speak them out loud. there’s a safety to it, the trickling of ink across blank papers. one that’s never failed him.
”… that should work,” he mumbles, and inumaki visibly brightens. ”what am i supposed to write, though?”
”just be straightforward.”
”not seconded!” panda huffs, crossing his legs. ”you need to be dramatic. heartfelt. that’ll catch their attention!” he stops to think for a moment, a hum buzzing loudly in his throat. ”hey — why not write them a love poem? put those skills to good use!”
”a love poem?” yuuta squeaks, a slight heat rising to the tips of his ears. ”there’s no way i could do that! and i’m not skilled, i —”
a pause. yuuta bites his lip.
”… it’d just be embarrassing,” he finally mutters, playing with his ring.
(he wonders what rika would think, if she were here. what she’d advise him to do — would she like the love poem idea? probably.)
”well, you could at least try. who knows, maybe they’ll like it,” maki attempts to reassure him, chewing at a piece of gum. ”if they’re anything like miwa, it’ll be easy.”
gnawing at his bottom lip, yuuta emits an anxious hum. deep in thought. maybe you would like it, but… what if you just think it’s cheesy?
maki observes him, intently. listening to the emotions behind his silence. tapping the pads of her fingers on her knee, in a rhythmic motion. ”… at least try writing something out,” she says. ”if you can’t think of anything, then just copy some random old guy. what was his name, uh — catallas? or something?”
yuuta’s gaze snaps up, eyes gone wide. ”catullus?” he gapes, in disbelief. ”are you insane? do you even know what kind of poems he wrote?”
maki shoots him a confused look, and a tilt of her head. ”isn’t he the ’give me a thousand kisses’ guy?”
”he is, but that’s —” a sigh, exasperated. flustered, as it flows from his parted lips. then he shakes his head. ”nevermind. it doesn’t matter.”
”tuna…” inumaki mumbles, nudging yuuta’s shoulder with his head. a silent encouragement. and even with no words, yuuta knows what he’s trying to say.
just be yourself. this is your specialty, right? 
write from your heart.
”inumaki…” yuuta meets his gaze, and is met with a pair of warm eyes. a friendly punch meets his shoulder, soft and delicate. kind.
”… alright. i’ll write it!”
”that’s the spirit!” panda grins. ”just give it to them during tomorrow’s lecture.”
”yeah,” yuuta nods, mustering the courage to smile. ”i will!”
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when yuuta gets home that night, he makes himself a cup of coffee with too much sugar, and gets ready to write.
he listens to maki’s acoustic guitar covers through his headphones, curled up with the fluffy blanket panda gave him, and munches on a hastily made onigiri to give himself much-needed energy.
(writing with a certain pumpkin-themed pencil, basking in the scratching of lead against blank pages.)
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his hands are shaking.
it’s barely noticeable, but it’s there. that nervous shiver of his bones, the rattling of his skeleton. you’re sitting right next to him, so close he can smell the shampoo you use, the mint off your breath —
and yuuta can’t seem to hand you the note.
he spent all last night writing it. putting every single little drop of his love into every single little word. but that fear of rejection still remains, rendering him useless, unable to act.
you’re listening to the lecture, but only halfheartedly, absentmindedly doodling in your notebook. out of boredom, he assumes.
it’s the perfect moment to strike.
yuuta’s hands are shaking, and his heartbeat is stuttering, crawling up his throat. he takes a sip of water, hoping it’ll make the dry sensation go away, but it doesn’t work.
(just be yourself.)
with a deep intake of breath, he pushes the note over to you — not daring to look your way.
his eyes remain glued on the laptop screen in front of him, but he hears you pick it up, hears the rustling of paper as you unfold it. his heart echoes with a similar rhythm, unstable, borderline erratic. the rest of the lecture passes by slowly, minute by minute, at an agonizing pace.
when it finally ends, yuuta has to restrain the urge to run away — turning towards you slowly, hesitantly, as if just the sight of you could blind him if he isn’t careful. but you’re already looking at him. and you’re smiling.
”that was so good, yuuta!”
….
huh?
”sorry, but i honestly don’t have any feedback,” you mumble, eyes trailing over the note again. ”i like it a lot. i didn’t know you wrote poetry!”
”… ah.”  yuuta stumbles for something to say. staring into your eyes, blankly. dumbly. ”t.. thank you! i’m glad you liked it.”
with a brief shake of your head, you smile, and something sickly sweet unfurls in his chest. ”not at all. thanks for letting me read it! i’m sorry i can’t really help you improve…”
mentally, yuuta falls to his knees. places his palms on the floor and dry heaves, clutching his heart. did you not get it? was he not clear enough? he wrote it with you in mind, so —
”maybe you could show it to professor nanami?” you suggest, unaware of the turmoil within the boy to your right. ”i'm sure he’ll be a great help! he can seem a bit intimidating, but he’s nice.”
”.. yeah,” yuuta smiles, weakly. ”i’ll do that. thanks again.”
for a moment, he isn’t even upset. because you flash him another bright smile, and suddenly, even the frustration of yet another setback doesn’t feel so awful.
(maybe it’s fine, he thinks. maybe this is enough; speaking to you, getting to see your smile up close. maybe he doesn’t need anything else, after all.)
”so?” maki questions, waiting for him outside of class with his other two friends. ”how’d it go?”
shoulders slumped, but still wearing a smile on his face, yuuta chuckles. it comes out sounding a little strangled. ”they… thought i wanted their feedback on my poetry.”
….
”what.”
panda attempt to stifle his laughter, but it doesn’t really work. inumaki elbows him gently, but yuuta sees his eyes crinkle, too. he breathes out a low chuckle. ”they liked the poem, at least. so i’m happy.”
a sigh falls from maki’s lips, and she waltzes over to him, a hand on her hip. the other reaches out for the note in his palm. ”let me see.”
quickly unfolding it, her eyes trail across the words on the pages, the flowery lines of writing —
and then she shoots him an unimpressed look.
”.. yuuta,” she pinches the bridge of her nose. ”what the hell is this? you didn’t even mention their number.”
panda leans over her shoulder, peeking at the text. eyes glancing over a couple lines, riddled with sugarsweet metaphors. ”uh, wow. you… really got into it, huh?”
a groan leaves yuuta’s lips, the sound muffled as he cradles his head in his hands. ”please don’t say anything else. i just wanna crawl into a hole and die…”
inumaki shakes his head, erratic, pointing at the poem with shining eyes. ”mentaiko!”
”ah, you liked it? thanks, inumaki…”
the boy in question smiles, shooting yuuta a thumbs up. he returns it with a small smile of his own.
surrounded by his friends, all he can do is bask in their warmth — and the memory of the smile you gave him.
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plan a plan b
plan c
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a groan fills the air, as yuuta slumps over the table. cheek pressed against the cold wood, absently kicking his legs, voice meek and defeated.
”this is never gonna work,” he mutters under his breath. eyes devoid of hope. ” i’m just not cut out for this, guys…”
”aw, c’mon….” panda reaches over to ruffle his hair, palm big and warm. ”don’t give up hope! you want to grow closer to them, don’t you?”
”i do, but…” he sighs. ”this isn’t going very well, is it…?”
inumaki frowns, sending yuuta a sympathetic glance.
”oh, quit moping already!” maki grumbles. ”we just need to keep brainstorming. isn’t it time for my plan, yet?”
”should we really even keep going…?” another sigh, heavy with fatigue. yuuta’s mind spins in circles, tiring him out. rendering him a bit cynical. ”i mean… maybe it’s fine if things stay this way.”
a moment passes. maki looks at him, emitting a soft scoff. ”what, so you’re just gonna keep pining for the rest of the term?”
”that’s the plan.”
”yuuta…” panda pouts, shoes bumping against his beneath the table. ”be more positive! just think about it; with every step you take, you get closer to confessing!”
yet another groan. this one is deep, riddled with exhaustion. muffled into the table. ”that’s the scariest part…”
before either of his friends can begin to persuade him otherwise, encourage him further, a sing-songy voice echoes throughout the air. loud, cheery — a little bit obnoxious.
”oh? did someone just say confess?”
at the same instant the sound reaches their ears, a chill runs down the youths’ spines. in tandem with each other, they raise their heads; gazes falling on a certain satoru gojo.
panda and maki are the first to act, speaking simultaneously as the white haired man inches closer. 
”— no.”
maki closes the notebook containing operation: get yuuta to confess, right before their professor can get close enough to see it. then she turns towards him, shooting him a cold look.
”your hearing’s getting bad,” she hums. ”maybe you should book a doctor’s appointment.”
a pout. gojo takes a seat right beside her, uncomfortably long legs bumping against every single other pair of shoes beneath the table.
”oh, c’mon. you know i heard you.” his hand reaches out to ruffle her hair, but she smacks it away. ”you’re starting to sound just like megumi, y’know that?”
maki grits her teeth. ”guess it’s a genetic thing,” she huffs. ”now can you leave? don’t you have papers to grade?”
”don’t you have papers to write?” gojo smirks, a teasing mirth in his eyes. hidden behind his sunglasses. maki ignores him. 
placing his palms on the table, he leans a little closer, lips curled up into a cheshire grin. foreboding. ”sooo… yuuta’s got himself a little crush, huh?” he teases. ”tell your favorite professor allll about it. maybe i can help!”
”professor geto is our favorite,” maki shoots back, instantaneous.
a soft huff. there’s something sour in gojo’s expression, now. ”that guy? really?”
before the two can argue further, yuuta takes the opportunity to to speak. smiling apologetically, polite and sweet. ”thanks, mr. gojo, but…”
”he doesn't need your help,” maki cuts in. so much for diffusing the tension. ”and do you really expect us to believe you get girls?”
”wha — rude!” gojo scoffs. ”for your information, i’m a natural charmer!”
… 
a moment passes. then another.
”… tough crowd,” he clicks his tongue, met only with four blank stares. ”but, really — let me help! i'm your professor, you know?”
and this time, yuuta thinks that gojo’s smile looks just a little more sincere. something kind and gentle in the way his lips curl up, like a father’s affection for their children. something that makes yuuta falter.
(maki might like mr. geto more — but when it comes to yuuta, his favorite professor is a no-brainer.)
so he speaks up, again. ”we can at least hear him out, right…?” maki shoots him an unimpressed look, but he doesn’t back down. ”we’re stuck, anyway…”
and just like that, gojo brightens. it’s obvious, in the way he sits up, more alert. in the way his grin grows wider. ”right? what you need is the perspective of someone more experienced.”
”have you even talked to a girl before?”
”i see him at ieiri’s office, sometimes.”
”salmon.”
”isn’t she a lesbian? that doesn’t count. i mean, like, in a romantic context.”
”i thought mr. gojo was gay, too?”
”what? no way. have you seen the way he’s dressed —?”
gojo clears his throat, voice loud and grating. demanding attention, cutting his eager students off. ”anyway,” he chirps. ”gather round, children! i’ll tell you exactly how to ask the person you like for their number.”
”wh —” yuuta blinks. ”how’d you…?”
”operation ’get yuuta to confess!’, step 1: ask for their number!” gojo repeats, grinning ear to ear. voice rich with amusement. ”i like the glitter. it’s a nice touch.”
maki huffs. looks like she didn’t close it fast enough.
begrudgingly, the youths quiet down, finally willing to hear their professor out. and gojo seems satisfied, at last, speaking in a hushed whisper; eerily serious all of a sudden. ”ok, so here’s what you do…”
everything goes silent. yuuta strains his ears, and gojo parts his lips. 
”— just ask them! easy, right?
….
”let’s go, yuuta.”
”mentaiko.”
”i heard they're serving those sandwiches you like at the cafeteria today! let's hurry before they run out.”
”ah — i was just kidding!” gojo laughs, as his students get up from their seats. ”i have an actual answer!”
maki grabs her bass, inumaki takes the notebook, and panda ushers yuuta away. they begin to walk down the hall, ignoring the pleas of the man behind them. pouting, as his shout echoes throughout the hallway. 
”kids! come back!”
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plan a plan b plan c
plan d
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”okay, so this is going absolutely nowhere.”
relishing in the shadow cast by the giant campus tree, the four friends sit on their usual table, sandwiches in hand. yuuta takes a bite of his, tentative. a little disheartened.
”really, guys… i appreciate it a lot, but maybe we should stop here.”
maki huffs. reaching across the table, she gently smacks him over the head with her can of sprite. ”no way. we still haven’t tried my plan.”
he leans back, a little further, a hesitant look in his eyes. the sun shines down, relentless, but the air smells like rain. in the distance he sees clouds, dark, approaching at a slow pace.
an omen, he thinks. a reason not to speak out.
rika always liked the rain. she liked the scent that came with it, the puddles she could jump in. she liked shaking the branches of tiny trees, just to see him jolt and squeak as the raindrops hit him.
the ring around his neck weighs heavy on his heart. the promise of it, the oath within the silver.
(when we grow up, let’s get married!)
”earth to yuuta!”
his eyes flutter open.
the sun shines down, embracing the contours of his face. painting his world yellow. from this angle, staring up at the tree, he can see it breaking through; between the gaps of the green leaves, the white blossoms. forcing its way into his line of vision.
a flicker of hope.
”do you want to hear the plan or not?” maki scoffs, crossing her arms and tapping at her elbow. impatient.
yuuta meets her gaze, finding it in him to muster up just a little more determination. ”yeah,” he breathes. ”i do.”
a smile blooms on her face. ”good. alright.”
panda and inumaki inch closer to the pair, careful not to knock over the cans of soda resting on the table. in a mess of limbs and tousled hair, they gather round.
this is it, yuuta thinks — the final plan. if it fails, he’ll just have to keep pining from afar. memorizing your smile, over and over, until you graduate and part ways. 
this is it.
maki parts her lips.
”— just ask them,” she says. ”straight out.”
silence. 
a moment passes. a soft, pleasant breeze flits by, caressing yuuta’s skin. his ring sways with the wind, gently. 
”… huh?!”
panda furrow his brows, leaning closer with his palms on his knees. ”i thought we agreed that was stupid!” inumaki huffs out a low affirmative noise, holding his sketchbook tightly to his chest. but maki only puffs out her chest.
yuuta tilts his head, with a soft furrow of his brows. ”didn’t you just cuss out mr. gojo for suggesting that…?”
”well, it’s dumb when he says it…” she mutters, under her breath. then her gaze turns firm. ”look — yuuta.”
when the two lock eyes, he notices a steadfast determination, glimmering in her irises. something almost burning.
”you aren’t going to get anywhere if you’re too cowardly to even look them in the eye,” she tells him, not allowing him to squirm away from the eye contact. ”you guys can come up with those convoluted plans all you want, but there’s no way you’ll grow closer if you can’t face them.”
tousling her hair, softly, maki lets out a sigh. there’s a kindness to it, distinct. he can tell she’s trying to be tactful. 
”if you really want to get to know them, then you have to be direct. and you have to believe in yourself. you’ve already resigned yourself to the fact that they’ll say no — but that’s just dumb.”
panda winces, under his breath, but doesn’t say anything. maybe this is exactly what yuuta needs to hear.
the boy in question listens, the eyes of his friend boring into his own. determined, confident, sincere — everything he isn’t. everything he wants to be.
”even if you don’t believe it, you’re a charming guy. we all think so,” she continues, matter-of-factly. angered affection overflowing in her voice.
”have some confidence, dammit!”
a moment passes. yuuta feels his lips part, ever so slightly. a little speechless.
panda and inumaki sit shoulder to shoulder, hands over their eyes, shielding themselves from the sight in front of them. comically, as if it’s too bright to look at directly. 
”this… overflowing tough love…!”
”salmon roe…!”
maki grins, all teeth, a little wolfish. but kind. ”the worst thing they can say is no, right? 
yuuta blinks. ”maki…” he mumbles, looking into her eyes, a certain sensation running through his chest. a kind of confidence. passed on from her to him — one friend to another. the most natural exchange in the world.
then he smiles. a little meek, somewhat awkward — but bright. ”yeah. yeah, you’re right!”
the lazy grin on her lips only deepens, as she gets up to her feet, dusting non-existent dirt off her jeans. reaching a hand out for yuuta to take. ”c’mon, loser. shape up. you’re gonna steal their heart, aren’t you?”
a moment passes.
yuuta takes her hand in his. ”i am,” he swallows down a gulp. willing his voice to sound even a little bit self-assured.
and she pulls him up, effortlessly, overflowing with a natural resilience. still grinning cheekily. encouraging him. ”you’re gonna go out there and do your best, right?”
”i — i am!”
another voice chimes in. ”you’re gonna finish my essay for me this week, right?”
”i am!”
”wait —”
maki hits panda over the head with a soft thwack. a wince leaves his lips, and inumaki giggles, quieting down when maki sends him a warning glance.
”don’t throw him off his game,” she huffs. then she turns to yuuta once more. ”let’s go find them. alright, loverboy?”
a smile blooms on his lips. grateful, to be surrounded by such sunny people. ones that make it a little easier to smile each day. ”right.”
— but before either of them can take a step forward, a warm voice spills into the open air.
”um, yuuta?”
the boy in question stops in his tracks. he feels his eyes widen, spinning on his heels, hair ruffled by the breeze — turning to look at the source of the sound. 
it’s you.
you, with your sunkissed smile, that inviting voice. that soothing, soothing presence. one that has his heartbeat picking up in speed, hands growing sweaty, throat running dry. one that makes him feel a little bit feverish. and you’re looking right at him, into his eyes.
”hey!” he sputters, blinking rapidly to convince himself that he isn’t hallucinating. but you just keep smiling, answering his awkward greeting without skipping a beat.
”hi! sorry, could i just… talk to you, for a second?” 
he blinks. the world stops spinning.
(you… want to talk….
to him?)
attempting to find the words, any words, he opens his mouth — but nothing comes out. not a single syllable, no vowels, not even a sound. nothing at all.
he can only stare, star-struck.
it’s not until his friends push him forward that he’s snapped out of it; they surround him, on all sides, wearing matching grins. teasing and excited.
”don’t worry, he’s all yours!”
”have fun, you two!”
”salmon!”
— then they’re off. 
yuuta tries to reach for their sleeves, in a weak attempt to keep them from leaving, but they’re gone before he can even blink. leaving him all alone, with someone he can’t talk to without experiencing intense symptoms of heart failure. 
he stumbles for something to say, again, but thankfully you beat him to it.
”sorry for interrupting you guys,” you say, voice set to a low tilt. apologetic. and his throat unclogs, a little.
”ah, no, it’s fine!” he smiles, maybe a little too giddy. wanting so badly to reassure you, to put you at ease. ”i’m happy to speak to you!”
(oh god oh no why did i say that —)
your smile widens, blooming like a flower in the sunlight. unfurling in front of his very eyes. ”me too!” you say, excitedly. ”i feel like you and i have been talking more, recently… it’s nice.”
eyes crinkling, you wringle your hands together, and look at him fondly. yuuta’s surprised he manages to keep his knees from buckling.
”i think so too!” he grins, ears pink and dimples showing. 
both of you smile. the breeze curls around your hair, illuminating the colour of your eyes. yuuta stops breathing, for a moment — just taking it all in.
”so — anyway…” you murmur, fiddling with the fabric of your pants. ”um… haha. sorry, i’m — a little nervous…”
yuuta blinks.
(he knows where this is going. all the signs are there, right in front of him; the flush of your cheeks, the nervous tapping of your fingers, the hesitance in your eyes. he’s read enough shoujo manga — he knows what this means.)
and he almost can’t believe it.
all he can do is keep smiling, hoping it’ll give you even a fraction of the peace that your smile brings him. ”don’t be,” he says, voice soothing. scratching the back of his head. ”whatever it is, i’ll — um. i’ll listen, so…”
he clears his throat. swallowing thickly.
”just — whenever you're ready.”
there’s no mistaking it. your ears are painted pink, and you’re gnawing at your bottom lip. fiddling with your fingers and avoiding his gaze, with a soft inhale, clear air filling your lungs. he wonders if your throat feels as dry as his, if your heart is beating even half as fast.
”um… okay, so…” you mumble, eyes unable to stay in one place for too long. a soft bout of laughter escapes you, and he can tell you’re trying to stave off your own nervosity; it sends a pang of ache running through his chest.
he wants to tell you that there’s no need to be nervous. that he’d listen to anything you have say, absolutely anything, no matter what it is.
he wants to tell you that he’d never let you down, that he’d have to be foolish to even think the thought.
he wants to tell you that he’ll hear you out. whenever, wherever. for as long as you need.
”do you, um…”
a gulp. your eyes find his, and there’s a soft kind of decisiveness in them. 
here it comes, he thinks. here it comes.
yuuta feels the heat on his cheeks, ears burning. and he hears the patter of his heartbeat, loud and heavy, echoing in his muddled mind like a mantra. but his chest feels light; fluttery, butterflies dancing around uncontrollably. 
clutching the ring around his neck, subconsciously, he looks you in the eye.
they’re bright, glimmering like little galaxies — or maybe more like summer skies. painted over with a warm hue, something nostalgic and sweet, so pretty it hurts. if he strains his eyes enough, he’s almost sure he can see the swirling of fluffy clouds in the depths of your irises.
a smile rests on your lips. it's almost overwhelmingly sweet, albeit a little shy, as you part your pretty lips. voice soaked in nervosity, tingly and shaky, and something he knows to be puppy love.
a shallow, dry intake of breath. yuuta braces himself.
here it comes. 
your voice spills out into the air, dripping with honey and magnolias. he thinks to himself that he’d like to hear the melodic lilt of it every single day; before going to bed, right after waking up. walking to campus together, heading back to the dorms when the sky gets dark.
just the sound alone would be enough.
subconsciously, he tugs on the strap of his backpack. thinking of the pencil inside it. his lucky charm, along with the ring around his neck — ordinary objects, both too precious for words.
(when we grow up, let’s get married!
you can keep it, if you want.)
here it comes, yuuta thinks.
a new beginning.
he strains his ears, and purses his lips, and watches your lips move as you finally ask —
”do you have maki’s number?”
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(somewhere in the distance, from an inconspicuous bush, the muffled screams of three students and one professor resounds.)
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yuri-is-online · 10 months
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Out of the Bag (Jamil, Ace, and Idia x Yuu)
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"Oh can I help you? You seem to be lost." You attempt to cheerfully ask the vaguely familiar looking person in front of you. As if he is deliberately trying to rub salt in your wounds, Crowley ignored your request to leave campus for NRC parents day and is instead making you and Grim run errands. The person in front of you, blissfully ignorant to your inner turmoil perks up at your attention.
"Forgive me for asking, but are you the magicless prefect?" You and Grim exchange a confused glance. "You've got to be right?" They're practically glowing with how happy they are to see you. " Oh I'm sorry, I've just heard so much about you!" Wait, what?
notes: (so uhhhh Jamil and Ace were supposed to be a part of the original post but I cut them out because I had to go to bed but forgot to remove the tags, sorry </3) they/them pronouns used for Yuu, sibling snark (Jamil and Ace) vs light angst (the Shroud parents), light reference to certain events in Ch. 6, but nothing specific. If you liked this please check out the first version on my masterlist.
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Jamil
"Oh yeah, you're Najma, right?" The younger girl looks pleasantly surprised you have remembered her from your visit to the Scalding Sands.
"Well that makes this a lot easier, do you know where Jamil is?" You internally cheer at how polite she is, some of the other families you have been dealing with today have really been testing your patience. "I've been looking everywhere for him, but couldn't seem to find a good opportunity to sneak up on him." Or maybe not, that doesn't sound like she hasn't seen him at all, why is she asking you?
"According to my schedule he's probably in the gym for the club activities program." You confirm with your clipboard and Najma sighs.
"Lame, he's gonna be all sweaty and gross." She checks her phone as you sneak a glance at Grim trying to figure out how much longer you have before you need to find something shiny to distract him. "Actually maybe I can just ask you." You turn your attention back to Najma who seems to be tapping her cheek with her phone and sizing you up. "Is there anywhere to get snacks on campus?"
"Now you're talkin!" Cheers Grim, bringing a really bright smile to Najma's face and a tentative one to yours. "Mr. S's Mystery Shop's got all the tuna you can ask for!"
"And other things to." You helpfully add and Najma happily begins to follow.
"So what do you like to do?" she asks almost ten seconds into your walk. "Like what fun stuff is there to do around campus?"
"Shouldn't you be asking your brother?" You ask, thankful Grim is too caught up in his tuna thoughts to make any snarky comments.
"About you?" Najma laughs and you feel a bit silly. "Nah he hates being honest about things like that."
"Well I don't have much free time..." but you manage to list off some things that you like as Najma nods, still tapping her phone on her chin for some reason.
"What about food?" she stops fiddling with her phone and just goes straight to texting on it as the Mystery Shop comes into view. "I know Jamil's food looks boring but it tastes super good."
"It sure does." Grim says, well more like whines. "He only ever gives it to Yuu and gets mad when I eat it though."
"That's because he asked for my opinion, not yours." It's a petty thing to say, but hey Jamil's a good cook. Najma seems to agree, giggling before you both jump ten feet backwards as a strangely shaped blur nearly knocks you over.
"NAJMA!" Jamil is indeed, sweaty and gross looking, his basketball jersey is practically drenched through, almost like he ran the entire way to here from the gymnasium. He's doubled over, hands on his knees as you fumble around looking for the water bottle Crewel made you bring with you earlier which he gratefully takes.
"Oh hey what are you doing here Jamil?" You don't know Najma super well, but she almost sounds disappointed to see her brother. "Prefect said you were at the gym."
"Don't start." Jamil passes you back the empty water bottle, hesitating just a bit before he lets you take it. "She didn't do anything weird, right? Hasn't said anything strange?" You blink in confusion.
"No? She's just been asking a bunch of questions about stuff. Jamil relaxes, letting you take the bottle with a genuine smile-
And gets cut off by a shutter sound effect making you both turn towards Najma, who doesn't bother looking up from her phone camera.
"Whoops thought I turned that off."
Ace
"Well, well, well, just what should I do with you?"  The ginger stranger is stroking his chin with an all too familiar look that puts you on edge, not because you think he is going to try anything illegal (yet) but because you can practically see the collar on this guy already.  There really is no beating around the bush about who this guy is, even if you really wished you had some plausible deniability.   "I could tell you about that time I told him if he kissed a frog it would turn into royalty and he actually did it-"  Too much information he technically just did.  "Or what about that time he only wanted to eat carrots so I freaked him out by saying he was turning into one because his hair was orange-"  So is yours big brother Trappola!  And where the hell is Grim he is supposed to be suffering through this with you.  "Nah those are too boring- oh I got it!"  Before you can break out in a dash for the mirror chamber, big brother Trappola claps an unintentionally (you hope) firm hand on your shoulder.  "Listen to this- wait I didn't introduce myself I-"
"Ace's brother."  He seems genuinely taken aback.  "He talks about you all the time." 
"Oh does he?"  Maybe you shouldn't have mentioned that, little Trappola's ego was insufferable already, older Trappola's has got to be worse right.  It's so obvious you can't even bring yourself to put the question mark on it.
"Funny you mention that, from my end it seems like all he ever talks about is Yuu."  He makes a big show of looking you over.  "Always talking about what a pain it is to look after you, but he never does stop."  He maneuvers himself to look directly into your eyes.  “You must be pretty special then, right?”
“Didn’t you used to go here?”  You ask, crossing your arms and fixing your best “not today Trappola” look onto your face.
“Sure did!  Also got put into Heartslabyul, must run in the family, we’re all a bit mad.”  Older Trappola breaks eye contact for just a second, something dancing on the tip of his tongue you have no desire to entertain at all.  You just want to ditch this overgrown root veg on his brother and then take a nap.
“So then, just to be clear, you don’t need me to show you around.”  You fumble around your clipboard looking for a map anyway.
“Oh no I absolutely need you to do that.”  You like it when Ace plays dumb better, at least it’s cute.  “Would be a really bad thing if you just left me all alone and I went somewhere I wasn’t supposed to.”  He stands up straight, looking off into the distance behind you with a dramatic sigh.  “Somewhere like Ramshackle Dorm maybe?  I hear that’s one of Ace’s-”
 A surprisingly strong pair of arms wraps you into an embrace from behind.
“Back off.” snaps Ace, a lot harsher than either of you have heard before “This one’s mine.”
Idia
"Dear! Dear! Come look it's the prefect!" A very excited very pink woman in a sundress and comically oversized sunglasses beckons to a very tall, very out place looking man who is... also wearing comically oversized sunglasses.
"The who?" he sheepishly walks over to his wife and gives you a little wave, clearly out of place but trying his best.
"The prefect! Ortho and Idia's friend." The realization seems to hit both you and Mr. Shroud at the same time, causing you both to retreat just a bit. You because you feel desperately dumb for not noticing the flaming hair and him because-
Well you hope it's because of the whole house thing but who knows.
"Oh sorry. Um we're Mr. and Mrs. Shroud but you probably already guessed that it's really nice to meet you." You awkwardly shake hands while Grim hides behind your legs.
"Do you have any plans for today?" Asks Mrs. Shroud. "I'd hate to interrupt things too much."
"Oh no that's not really an issue for me." You look down at Grim for half a second before adding. "For us."
"I'm sorry to hear that." whispers Mr. Shroud, gently taking his wife's hand and you stand around in silence for a little bit, trying to figure out how to walk the conversation from the ledge it's found itself on.
"Um if there isn't anything you need help with-"
"Idia speaks really highly of you." Mrs. Shroud says gently, and you have to keep yourself from fainting from shock. Idia speaking highly of- no forget that. Idia talks to his parents? And you were the conversation topic? If she had said it was Ortho that would make sense but Idia? "I know he can be a bit blunt, but he treasures your friendship. And as his mother, I am very grateful he has someone as kind as you in his life."
"We both are." whispers Mr. Shroud. "If you need help while you are here please don't hesitate to ask us." And with that they leave you and Grim
~~~
[Fullmetal] hey ortho said u ran into our parents irl
[Fullmetal] srry that had to be awkward
[yuu] it's cool
[yuu] I mean they spooked Grim but they were nice lol
[Fullmetal] UNACCEPTABLE
[Fullmetal] ...so do you think that he'd be cool to come over so I can like
[Fullmetal] apologize
[Fullmetal] u know for the stress
[yuu] and not for talking about me behind my back ( ̄ε ̄)
[read at 6:57 pm]
[Fullmetal is typing... ... ...] [... ... ...] [... ... ...]
"I don't need to apologize if I said nice things... right?"
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ghostqiu · 3 months
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helping the demon kings while they’re sick ٩(˃̶͈̀௰˂̶͈́)و
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sagesskies · 3 months
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ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴄᴇᴏ
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✒ ᴍᴏɴᴇʏ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ʙᴜʏ ʏᴏᴜ
✉ - ʟᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴀɴᴏɴʏᴍᴏᴜꜱ - ʜᴇʏ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ! ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ᴀ ʟᴏᴠᴇꜱɪᴄᴋ ᴄᴇᴏ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀ ɢɴ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ᴀᴛ ᴀ ᴄᴏꜰꜰᴇᴇ ꜱʜᴏᴘ ʜᴇ ꜰʀᴇQᴜᴇɴᴛꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ɪᴛ ɢᴏᴇꜱ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ? (ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛꜱ ʀɴ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ɪɢɴᴏʀᴇ, ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ɢʀᴇᴀᴛ ᴅᴀʏ/ɴɪɢʜᴛ ♥)
ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ: ꜱᴛᴀʟᴋᴇʀɪꜱʜ ʙᴇʜᴀᴠɪᴏʀꜱ, ᴀɢᴇ ɢᴀᴘ (ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜱ ɪɴ ᴇᴀʀʟʏ ᴛᴡᴇɴᴛɪᴇꜱ, ᴍɪʟᴀɴ ɪꜱ ɪɴ ʟᴀᴛᴇ 30ꜱ), ᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ ᴅɪꜱᴏʀᴅᴇʀ (ᴍɪʟᴀɴ), ɪɴꜱᴏᴍɴɪᴀ (ᴍɪʟᴀɴ), ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ʜᴀꜱ ᴀ ɢɪʀʟꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ, ᴜɴʜᴇᴀʟᴛʜʏ ʙᴇʜᴀᴠɪᴏʀ (ʟɪᴛᴇʀᴀʟʟʏ), ᴘᴏꜱꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇɴᴇꜱꜱ, ɪᴍᴘʟɪᴇᴅ ɴᴇɢʟᴇᴄᴛꜰᴜʟ ᴘᴀʀᴇɴᴛꜱ, ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴍɪꜱꜱᴇᴅ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴇʟꜱᴇ!
Yandere CEO who first met you at your job in your friend's family bakery. Young, bright, and full of life, wearing a baby blue apron. You eagerly greeted him with a smile, and asked how he was doing. There was nothing forced about your mannerisms, it was all genuinely, purely, you. 
Yandere CEO, despite knowing it'll all end up flushed down a toilet, comes in everyday ordering the different pastries you recommend. After his seventh visit, you jokingly ask him if he's got any cavities yet and he blushes. Not that you notice. 
Yandere CEO who gathers the courage to talk to you beyond simple good mornings, and responding to your questions of: “How are you Milan?” or “So that'll it be for today, eh?” and stammers out things like, “N- Nice weather today, huh?” and even, “Uh.. How- How long have you been working here for?” It's all simple, nearly no substance, but it's exceptional progress for somebody like him who barely even speaks to his secretaries beyond plain Yes's and No's. 
Yandere CEO whose fair face turns a furious red whenever you tease or compliment him, calling him things like adorable and cute. Never has he been called anything like that before. People see him, with his bodybuilder-esque physique and stoic face, with it's fierce features, and are too intimidated to treat him with anything other than with a  respect that is borne out of fear. 
Yandere CEO who knows this is wrong. He's 38 years old, and you're only what? 23? This is wrong, this is taboo, this is predatory. But his heart can't help but beat furiously for you each time he steps inside the quaint little bakery. Your bright smile, your gentle eyes, your warm voice. You are like the sun, and he is your ever-devoted Icarus, who will crash and burn if he tries to even fly an inch closer.
Yandere CEO who is unable to sleep at night. He's used to this, he's had insomnia since he was a teenager in highschool, but never like this before. Where previously it was paranoia and anxieties that kept sleep at bay now it was you, the scent of pastries and bread, and your warmth. 
Yandere CEO who unconsciously starts to act like a teenage girl. Doodling your name in the margins of his paperwork, writing (Name) x Milan over and over again in the empty pages of his journal, which was previously used exclusively for tracking his expenses but was now being used for more personal entries. 
July 17, 2009
Today [Name] remembered it was my birthday, and bought me a slice of chocolate cake using his own money. I tried to keep it down, but unfortunately my body is too used to emptying its stomach whenever I eat too much. 
September 7, 2009
[Name] asked me if I've been sleeping well recently, and even if I told him I was okay, he still gave me a box of teabags. He told me it helps him sleep at night, and hopes it'll be able to help me too. He's so kind, and too good to me. I can never tell him it's him who's the cause behind these sleepless nights. I think it'll devastate him. Sometimes, I hope it will.
February 13, 2010
[Name] asked me if I was going to buy somebody any pastries for Valentine's Day, and if there's anybody I'm hoping to receive any chocolates from. I wanted to tell him I hoped to receive chocolates from him, but that would be inappropriate. Then he told me he hoped his girlfriend would remember to give him some.
[Name] has a girlfriend. 
Yandere CEO who doesn't show up for multiple days after you reveal this to him. He goes back to old habits, the following days occupied by work, work, and work. He sleeps rarely, and wakes up late. He eats even less than he usually does, and forgets to go to the gym. 
The only thing that Yandere CEO does outside of that? Pay private investigators to learn as much as possible about you, no matter how dirty or well kept the secret is he will know. 
It's unethical, a violation of all your rights, but he thought you two were close. That you were friends. A kind of relationship he barely even knew. All he knows is distant families, cold business partners, and shallow imitations of friendship. He thought you were different, you were so real, but if he didn't even know you had a girlfriend, then what else was he unaware of?
Yandere CEO whose father calls him, and tells him his secretaries have told him about how he's been acting, and advises him to take a break. Perhaps he should try to hit the dating scene? He'll have to get married eventually, and he's not getting any younger. 
Yandere CEO who goes to the blind dates his mother arranges for him. Daughters of her friends, sometimes even granddaughters. Women who are sometimes a decade younger than him. Women who are his age. He never told his parents he was gay, and now he has to suffer through this. 
Yandere CEO who is thinking of canceling the date on the spot when she takes him to a familiar bakery, the familiar bell rings as the door swings open and you're still there, wearing your baby blue apron, and the polite smile you flashed his date immediately widens when you see him. 
Yandere CEO who freezes up, and then stammers out a greeting, face flushed. His date, who has so far only experienced the cold and stoic front he puts on, is surprised that what has broken down the stone walls he's put up is the cute, young, male baker, who has a bright grin on his face. 
“Milan!” You practically chirp, “It's been so long, where have you been man?” 
You were wondering where he was? You missed him? You missed him? Milan? He couldn't believe his ears, he felt like he could faint.
Milan clears his throat, averting his grey eyes away from you, and avoiding Carrie's burning gaze. 
“I have been preoccupied with work,” He explains, it's not a lie, he's just exaggerating how much work there was for him when it was basically just him doing paperwork and attending meetings every once in a while, “I apologize if my absence has bothered you…” 
You chuckle, “I'm just glad to see you again.” Milan can't help the small smile that forms on his face, but he restrains it from widening into a grin. He's in front of Carrie, a friend but at the same time a business partner, a marriage prospect, an unwelcome intruder into what could've been a moment between you two.
You glance at Carrie as if remembering that she was here, “Ah, sorry, you must've been confused on how I know him, but I'm a friend of Milan,” You smile kindly at her, “Name's [Name] [L/N], nice to meet you!” 
Carrie forces a polite smile on her face, “A pleasure,” Her eyes are filled with a cold fury, though Milan knows it's not directed to you, “My name is Carolyn, Carolyn Deveuraux. However, you may call me Carrie.” 
Milan fakes a cough, “Mhm, anyways.. I'd like to have the usual… and Carrie you'll have..?” 
She hums, “I'll have a cinnabon.” 
You glance between the two, noticing the obvious tension between them, “Oookay, I'll have that prepared for you two in a jiffy,” Milan hands you his card, and savors the slight brush of your fingers, before your warmth is teared away and you slide it back to him when you're done.
He glares at Carrie for scaring you away, but she doesn't even look at him, her eyes are fixed on you. Milan wants to gouge her eyes out, she doesn't even deserve to look at you. Not when she barely knows you. Not like him, who knows every single thing about you that his money can buy for him.
You head into the back to prepare the goods, and Carrie goes back outside where there are tables and chairs. She sits on one, and crosses her arms. Milan settles on the one across from her, posture straight, arms on the table, eyes… decidedly not looking at Carrie. 
“So, you and that man… [Name], was it?” Milan nods, she continues, “You know each other, do you?” She taps one carefully manicured nail against the arm of the chair. Tap, tap, tap. 
Milan does not simply know [Name], he practically lives underneath the younger man's skin, but instead of verbalizing this he nods once more, “We have known each other for two years.” 
“Hm,” Her eyes narrow, they are blue, like ice, “ And how old is [Name]?”
“Twenty-four years old,” Milan tells her, “He had just gotten out of college when we first met.” His eyes trail to the window into the bakery, you still haven't emerged. Why were you taking so long? 
“Does he know?” Carrie’s tone is sharp and frigid. Milan glances at her, if he is not careful then he could be caught up in an inescapable storm. 
“He does not,” Milan admits, “And I'd prefer to keep it that way.” You still have your girlfriend, and he's content with your secrets and the stolen pictures. 
Carrie glares at him, “Why him? Is it his mind? His personality? Or is he simply a pretty boy you like to ogle at?” She's angry, and Milan, for his lack of proper socialization, has been taught to read people, every single shift in expression or body language has a hidden meaning, can tell this fury stems from something personal. 
“That is none of your business,” Milan had known Carrie for a while now, since his 30th birthday party where his father invited all his associates, and Lewis Deveuraux had brought his 28 year old daughter Carolyn, but they were never friends so much as allies in the cutthroat world of capitalism, and she was crossing a line. 
“I can tell your father.” 
“Have you ever heard of the saying, ‘Snitches get stitches’, Carolyn?” Milan asks, “You tell him, and I'll be doing so much more than giving you stitches.” 
Carrie doesn't even flinch, “Not much you can do when stripped of your position at your father's company,” She doesn't get a chance to continue, not when you arrive with a tray carrying the warm pastries. You set the plates down, as well as the complementary coffee. 
“Here you go…” You glance between the two of them, “It's been nice seeing you again Milan,” You smile at Carrie, “Great to meet you too, Carrie, hope to see you around some more.” 
Milan digs a nail into the skin of his palm hard enough to draw blood, if only to stop himself from punching that smirk on Carrie's face off, “Thank you, [Name],” Her voice is pleasant, light and airy, “It was a pleasure to meet a… friend of Milan today.” 
“Same here,” You grin. You wave goodbye to the both of them, then head back into the bakery. 
Carrie's polite smile is gone as soon as you're out of the vicinity, “Let's talk about this later,” She reaches out and places a well-manicured hand on top of Milan's larger one, and her lips curl up, “For now, enjoy the treats your little crush has made for us.” 
Yandere CEO, who since that reunion has started coming back more often. Happy to finally be able to bask in your presence again, thoughts of your girlfriend are dashed from his mind when he saw your smile again after two months of being deprived of it. 
The only downside? Carrie is there as well. Chatting you up, using her charm to lower your guard down. She's a snake, or a wolf in sheep's clothing. Yandere CEO knows she's trying to break you two apart, but he won't let her. 
Yandere CEO who can't stand watching you smile at her, keeping up with her bright mind in ways he knew you could but had never seen before. He didn't know it was possible, but he's become even more enraptured. Handsome with not only a good personality, but also intelligent. God, you were perfect. 
Yandere CEO is able to himself with an endurance he didn't even know he possessed. He's not used to the rage that has been gathering inside him, but it's not that similar to managing his fear and paranoia. He can't do anything to Carrie, not when you two have practically become the best of friends.
Yandere CEO who decides that he can't let himself fall behind, he was here first you know. He's known you for two years while Carrie was only for a few weeks. He musters up the confidence he often uses in meeting rooms, trying to look suave and cool, but instead making you laugh.
“Haha… you're seriously so adorable Milan,” You tease, “What're you acting so serious for?” 
After that, Yandere CEO decides to just act how he did before, it's clearly more effective as you've even invited him to eat with you in the park near the bakery during your lunch hours. Something you haven't done in the two whole years you've known each other. 
He realizes that in a sense, you are like him. Despite his stoicness, and your expressive features, his assertive aura, with your laid back vibe, both of you have an appreciation for genuine people. It makes his heart beat faster, for some inexplicable reason.
Yandere CEO who listens to you attentively as you start opening up to him more about your life. Your struggles with paying off college debt, your inability to land a higher paying job, and how you don't have enough money to pay for your rent. He already knows about all of this, but is happy nonetheless to be able to give you a comforting hug or pat on the back. One time, you actually cried and he got to feel the warmth of your tears as they raced down your face, they soaked into the skin of his palm as he wiped them away and offered you words of comfort.
Yandere CEO who abides by the law of equivalent exchange, and opens up to you more as well.  He's heard before that the more imperfect you make yourself out to be, the more attractive you were for it was a sign of humanity. So what's more human than sharing his past as a bullied fat kid, and the whiplash he got once he had bulked up and attracted admirers like they were flies? Maybe it's the insomnia, the social anxiety, and the knowledge that he's surrounded by shallow people. Whatever it is, it works. 
Yandere CEO who has started to feel genuinely close to you. Where before, it was akin to a celebrity having to deal with an awkward yet starstruck fan, now it felt like you two were old friends having a good time together. This is the first time he's had a relationship like this and he'd rather have his company go bankrupt and end up homeless on the streets than lose it. 
September 12, 2010 
[Name] is not meant for me, he is young, full of potential, and with a girl that he loves. But he tempts me with his warm eyes, beautiful smile, and those kind words of his that has had me wrapped around his finger since the very first day I met him. 
It is wrong, it is dirty. I am too old, too broken, worn out like a hand me down toy. However I cannot help myself. He is like the sun, bright and comforting, yet he burns me so. 
[Name]
[Name]
[Name] 
Even just writing his name has me weak at the knees, it makes me feel alive. Like I can face the day without wanting to retreat back to my bed and refusing to get out till I am dragged by my feet. Just the idea of being able to catch a glimpse at him, gives me the energy to get up and do a marathon. 
[Name] is too charming for his own good. He’s such a sweet boy, not knowing how much he tempts me to do such despicable things every single time I see him talking to customers or laughing with Carrie. He doesn’t know, he doesn’t know, he doesn’t know. 
I should be leaving him alone, and never speaking to him again. He is fine, he is perfect, he is like God. But I am nothing but a filthy sinner who shouldn’t even be within his sights. Better kept away, far far away. But I want nothing more than to touch him, to hold his feet in my filthy hands and press my cold lips to it. His foot alone is worth more than my entire career. His life? Priceless. 
However if I were to distance myself from him again, I’d become a shell. No better than a living corpse. My father and mother would be concerned for the business, and they’d keep on trying to figure out why I’m in such a state, till they eventually trace it all back to [Name], and I can’t have that. I don’t want them knowing about him. It is bad enough Carrie knows. But my own parents? 
I cannot accept that. I will not share him. They would take him away from me like they took away everything else good that could’ve happened to me by being my parents and birthing into the life that I’ve led. His warmth would be engulfed in their cold gazes and harsh words, and soon he would be no better than I am, and that cannot happen. 
He may not be meant for me, but I will make sure nobody else can have him. 
Even that girlfriend of his.
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☏ - ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇᴍᴀɪʟ: ᴍʀ. ꜱᴀɢᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴍɪɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏᴘᴇɴ, ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ'ᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ.
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milkywaydrabbles · 7 months
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❤︎₊ ⊹Ran, who would give you the world if you asked him to. Ran, who fell in love with you the moment he saw you, bright eyed and laughing at a joke or other your friend said in a club he owned.
❤︎₊ ⊹Ran, who watched you for the rest of the night, dancing silly with the rest of your friends, you just came to have a fun time, not wanting to go home with anyone.
❤︎₊ ⊹Ran, who felt nervous the moment your eyes met his, seeing how your eyes grew wide with embarrassment that you were caught staring. (He could help but smile, like he hadn't been staring all night)
❤︎₊ ⊹Ran, who finally had the balls to tap you on your shoulder and introduce himself (not as the owner, just as some guy really) and asked for a date.
❤︎₊ ⊹Ran, who bought you flowers week after week, telling you that you were worth these and more.
❤︎₊ ⊹Ran, who didn't tell you about himself, what he really did, until a few months into the relationship, hoping for the best but expecting the worst.
❤︎₊ ⊹Ran, who wanted to propose to you on the spot when you just smiled at him and laughed, running your hands through his hair when he heard you say 'that explains a lot of things. Now, can I finally meet your brother?'
❤︎₊ ⊹Ran, who bought the engagement ring the day after you moved in with him a year into the relationship, because he just knew you were the one since the day he met you.
❤︎₊ ⊹Ran, who writes his own vows because he wants it to be special for you and only you, waiting for the right day to pop the question.
❤︎₊ ⊹Ran, who will tell the rest of the execs that you're his wife, even if you're not married yet, because he knows you will be one day.
。゚゚・。・゚゚。 ゚。 Haitani Ran  ゚・。・゚
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machiavellli · 4 months
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Some Lorenzo Berkshire headcanons˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚
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Notes: after a month I made them. I am truly sorry, I am the ceo of procrastination. But I had so much fun writing those though, because Lorenzo is my silly lovely boy, I wanna hug him so bad, he too precious. And this song, reminds me of him so bad, like every time I listen to it, my mind immediately jumps to him.
Honestly I got a bit carried away, I wanted to cover maybe other parts, like how he is as a boyfriend, but well-. You read it and of course you can tell me what you think after :)
Pairing: Lorenzo Berkshire x reader
Infos: pretty much just fluff, possible dramatic scene, no use of y/n, Lorenzo being cute, mutual pinning, English is not my first language (please if you find any mistake report them to me!).
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Lorenzo Berkshire, the most precious slytherin boy:
You two first met when you were just children because of your families
And I don’t know about you, but I used to despise boys so much when I was little, until I was seven (or perhaps even eight), so I kinda imagine your first meeting to be not that charming.
Like little Enzo panicking because he can’t understand what he did wrong, why this little girl is making such a disgusted face for him
But as you two grow more comfortable around each other, he becomes your best boy friend.
You two have many chances to see each other during your childhood and you always tried to make the best out of each encounter.
The type of kids that would cry when they have to separate after playing all day together.
And also the type of children that would definitely try to pull a prank on little Draco, just for them to get chased down by Lucius Malfoy himself after and cry frightened.
But something inside you two changes when you both are forced into your first ballroom dancing class (I headcanon that all the high-ranking families in the magical society enjoy hosting elegant dinners and balls, so follow me on this)
The proximity between you two, the touch of her hand, totally make little Enzo go all flushed.
Therefore, that soft innocent crush in the heart of the two children starts to blossom.
You drew hearts next to his name in your diary, imprisoning your feelings at the edge of a paper too scared to burn at the sight of the light, too scared to show this growing affection.
Little Enzo would sometimes pick a flower from his garden, trying to build some courage in himself for giving it to you. But that never happens.
When you get to Hogwarts he is your rock.
Perhaps if you an introvert he is the one introducing you to people or literally bringing you inside a friend group.
Ever heard of the trope “extrovert adopts an introvert”? Like that I mean.
Anyway, the crush is still there, of course, but none of you dare to even consider talking about it. Because no one has the guts to risk losing their favorite person.
Lorenzo is very cheerful, a ray of sunshine, and as he grows more people start to notice. And that’s a problem.
You are jealous, terribly.
Seeing those girls approaching him, giggling like infants, even when you are right at his side, hurts you.
He always refuse them politely and you smile in you mind.
Lorenzo is such a gentleman and everybody knows it.
Always giving you his arm while walking, opening doors,
moving chairs,
asking “how did you sleep darling?” or “have you eaten today dear?”
hugging you every time you see each other,
Offering his jacket to you as soon as he notice that it is becoming a little cold
Listening you ramble for hours about your favorite subject or a book you just read, always with that delicious little smile painted on his face.
And if he finds you crying for whatever reason he will take you into his arms immediately.
Listening to you explain through your tears what happened, while one hand strokes your hair gently and the other your back.
Seeing you hurt has an effect on him, definitely will let a couple of tears slip while you can’t see him.
Lorenzo is an empath, he will understand you and he will comfort you.
Also I feel like his love language is debatable, but he will definitely like to touch you, to feel your presence concretely.
Even if you two are not together he will often try to pull out an arm around your shoulders, always respecting your decision to refuse it and your personal vital space though.
Perhaps, sometimes, as you are all focused making your pen run during your studies session, he will look at your hand, wishing to be able to linger over it without an explanation.
He is also jealous, of course, because no one knows how desperate he is for you, how he feels blinded by how beautiful you have grown.
He feels his eyes and heart burning when a guy at a party tries to hit on you.
The golden retriever energy is suddenly gone and Theo will pull out a worried look for his friend.
But you aren’t his, how stupid it is of him to ache himself for something he never had.
After another scene of this kind, Theo decides to ask him about this totally not subtle behavior of his. (You already know that I headcanon Enzo and Theo to be best buddies shhh)
It takes a while for him to confess, but either for the tipsy state or the exhaustion that this situation has brought to him, he confess.
After years, let’s say it happens in the 6th year, he finally tells someone, felling already a bit lighter.
Theo looks at him, trying to not laugh, but miserably fails: “mate do you need glasses?”
And then he explains to him that anyone can see that something is going on between the two.
That you look at him like he is the sun lighting your existence and so does he with you.
Perhaps it is time to act now, to not fear, to be brave.
He won’t ask you directly though, I see him more prone to writing down a letter to you
Pouring on paper his feelings, how exceptionally well you make him feel, in conclusion, his love for you.
The angel sent from above that you are in his eyes, that he always had and always will e have at his side if he seals with ink his emotions.
Perhaps it could look something like this:
My Dearest,
In the quiet corners of my soul, I've carried a secret for what feels like an eternity, my heart dances to the rhythm of your name. Amidst youthful dreams and uncertain tomorrows, your laughter echoes in my thoughts, painting vivid hues in the canvas of my days. With each passing day, your radiance grows, illuminating the path of my existence. Today, in this moment of bravery, perhaps taken by a Gryffindor spirit, I dare to confess what has long lingered unspoken: I adore you beyond measure.
Yours sincerely,
Lorenzo
And do we want the realization dramatic? Of course, is that even a question?
You recive his letter in a moment of privacy, perhaps in a quiet corner of the library while you are studying.
A first year approach you and quickly says “It is from Lorenzo Berkshire, he wants to know what you think then” before running away.
You look at the letter puzzled, looking at the delicate handwriting in which your initials are written on the outside.
You open the letter and everything just stops.
Only your eyes move, running desperately over and over again on the words overflowed by pure love.
How is it that you never noticed?
How is it that someone can love you so deeply?
The clock has continued its tireless dance for too long and you finally had enough.
There it won’t be peace until you found him.
An exceptional energy, filled with excitement, happiness and love, takes over you.
You suddenly snap, lifting yourself up from your cozy spot, leaving everything behind, because your real everything is in front of you.
The sound of your shoes, tirelessly beating against the hard floor as you run, is all you can hear.
People send concerned look in your way as you brush not so cordially their shoulder, trying to make your way to your lover.
The halls are full, the rain is once again pouring outside, you don’t even know where you are going, simply drove by the now fully ignited sentiment.
Lorenzo is repaired outside in the viaduct courtyard, waiting for his friends to be done with their smoking when he sees you.
You, bravely exiting the library annex, making your way to the viaduct bridge, looking left and right, looking for him.
Without a word to the others he starts running in your direction, the rain quickly wetting him entirely.
You are now both running, from opposite side of the bridge, people gathering around looking as the scene consume before them.
It is cold,
It is wet,
The nature is gray under the fog.
But two hearts beat ferociously, desperately trying to approach the other.
Your drenched hair flows with your movement, hands in a fist, your vision lightly blurred.
And in the middle of the bridge he catches you.
An hug full of every word neglect for so long.
He spins you around for has many years he had to wait for this, before he lets you go, moving his hands to cup your face gently as the rain harshly pours on you.
Eyes so desperate to crawl into the other’s spirit.
“I sense my letter has reached you” he will say smiling like an idiot drunk on love
You giggle, like the kids you used to be.
Because you have known each other for a lifetime, but only now he has found you.
“My dear, I love you” he will say before kissing you, warming your body, lighting your existence.
Everything faded then, from the cheers of the other students looking at the theatrical scene, to the screams of the various professor trying to pull you inside.
Your heart finally funded his.
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I hope you liked them🫶✨
my ask box is open btw!
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ghouljams · 5 months
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https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPRvHqrtV/
Immediately thought of Soap when this appeared. Reminds me of Viking!sSoap a little.
"Right where I want you, eh Bonnie?" Mactavish glances at you with a smile before his eyes are trained on the forest again. His arms box you against the rough bark of the tree. Your heart is pounding, your body pinned by his as he shields you from whatever caught his eye.
One of his hands slides from the trunk of the tree slowly, and rests against the ax at his hip. Waiting to pull it free in a flash. His eyes don't touch you again, focused on something you haven't even tried to catch a glimpse of. The swell of his broad chest as he breathes makes you press your self closer to the tree. He's so close you could count his lashes, your eyes transfixed on the sky blue irises, so dark with intent as they watch the forest.
"What is it?" You ask, a little breathless. You haven't taken a full breath since you realized how close the motion pressed you to him.
"Bear," He tells you quietly, the low rumble of his voice shivers down your spine. You tense, trying to suppress it. Mactavish glances at you again, his brows drawing together, "It'll leave, don't worry."
You're not worried about the bear, you're worried about the man. He's too close, too warm, too human. You can't keep him fixed in your mind as a monster like this. Not when you can smell the sweat on his skin, see the cracks in the paint around his eyes. He's human, entirely human. You don't like him human, it takes some of the blame from him if he's human.
It feels like ages trapped between the viking and the tree. Ages watching his eyes, watching your own breathing. His eyes track movement, flicking between trees until he lets out a breath you didn't know he'd been holding. You think he'll step away, let you go now that you're safe, but he doesn't. He turns his attention to you, his eyes burning against your skin when he looks at you.
"Look at you," He hums, lifting his hand to rub his knuckles over your cheek, "caught again by a viking, you're makin' a habit of this."
"Like I had a choice," You huff.
"Y'always have a choice," Mactavish smiles, "can run, can fight, can bargain." You push at him and he goes without a fuss. As if the muscles you feel under your hands could yield so easily. He's sturdy as stone, but he moves for you.
"You've already proven you can catch me," You tell him, grabbing your discarded pack off the ground, "and fighting you would be a fool's errand."
"Love to hear your bargain then Bonnie." You hate the way he teases you, the way you can hear him smiling at you. You hate the way it settles warm in your chest every time he calls you that. Bonnie, beautiful. You hate being teased more than anything.
"I have even less to bargain with," You let some of your annoyance slip into your voice, what a wonderful reminder of everything taken from you. Something shifts in the air behind you, you ignore it. "Let's just get back to camp."
"Aye, smart choice." Soap watches you settle your bag over your shoulder, sorting through ingredients as you push past him. His fingers stroke the fur around your shoulders as you walk by, gentle enough he knows you won't feel. He hates hearing you talk like that. As if you don't know your own value. Nothing to bargain with? He'd give everything for you. You could ask anything of him and he'd gladly give it.
Make a bargain with me, he silently begs, tell me what it takes to love you.
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dulcesiabits · 5 months
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More blue lock boys being crazy ft two characters I haven't written for before!
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blindbisexualgoose · 1 year
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My favourite feminist
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shootingmorningstar · 1 month
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Was inspired by bambygourl’s fanart and a TikTok I saw. Dressing up as Roger and Jessica Rabbit for a costume party with Lucifer. I think he’d be all pouty and grumpy about dressing up as such a silly character and not a suave charming character. Especially since he’d take a look at the white button up, red trousers with suspenders, and blue bow tie with yellow polka-dots and see it as a fashion nightmare XD. And don’t get him started on the bunny ears and tail. Tho his mood is sufficiently uplifted when he sees the reader dressed up as Jessica Rabbit. Low cut red dress with a slit and all. Just imagine pulling on his suspenders or bow tie for a kiss, getting lipstick on his mouth and face, and cooing over how adorable and handsome her honey-bunny is.
I've been meaning to get to this request ever since I saw it because it is just so good. I'm definitely biased for anything Lucifer related but god this is just so cute. Anon, your brain is outstanding. I love pouty Lucifer. If you still have that tiktok on hand or ever come across it again, do you think you could send it my way .ᐣ
You didn't include what kind of request you wanted though, and my default is HCs -- but I couldn't help but throw in a little drabble based on them, too. Or, at least I intended it to be a drabble .ᐣ It got away from me, haha.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀Lucifer and Female Reader Dressing
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ Up As Roger and Jessica Rabbit ~
Lucifer is initially thrilled when you bring up wanting to attend a famous yearly costume party in Pride with him. A chance to show you off sounds amazing, and he's great with costumes. Just the thought of you two matching is enough to get him excited.
You seemed just as excited as he was -- in fact, he was even more excited when you told him you'd already had something in mind .ᐟ He's pestering you to tell him just what the costumes were as soon as the plan leaves your lips, but much to his displeasure, you refuse, saying you want to keep it a surprise.
You'd even managed to resist the very strongest puppy-dog eyes and pout. Impressive. He usually succeeds in getting his way with that one -- who could ever say no to that face .ᐣ Having exhausted his options, he sighs his defeat.
Well, nearly exhausted his options. He was entirely too ready to pretend that you'd won and snoop through your closet the second you walked away. Apparently his quick glance at said closet had given him away though, and with a quick deadpan stare alongside a scary sounding ❛ don't you dare. ❜ has his feet rooted to the floor.
Did his poker face really suck so bad .ᐣ He's definitely practicing it in the mirror later.
Ultimately, though, he trusts you completely and your choice in matching outfits is no exception, so he allows it to drop for now. There's still a few more days until the party, but that time could be spent much more productively by your side rather than whining about clothing.
That is, until the day of the party comes around and you bring out his outfit. You'd never seen Lucifer's jaw drop quite like that before and it takes iron will to stop yourself from giggling at his present state.
He doesn't understand the reference. Lucifer regrets his past decision to give humanity free will. It's obvious, even if he never seems to say it outright. He had given out such a precious gift and so much of humanity chose to abuse it, to be nothing but cruel. Looking at sinners and by extension humanity is just a terrible reminder of what he'd done, so he prefers to avoid it whenever possible. This quite often includes the media of the living realm -- he's never even heard about the movie, forget seeing it.
So without the full context, all he knows is that you've just handed him an absolutely atrocious outfit -- and to make it worse, you expect him to go out in it .ᐣ Seriously, he whinges, red overalls with a blue bow .ᐣ Rabbit ears .ᐣ And to make it worse, you won't even show him your outfit until he gets dressed .ᐟ He can't believe you're laughing.
He sounds completely and totally ridiculous, in your defense. Seriously, has he seen his regular outfit .ᐣ He looks absolutely stunning, sure -- but he also looks like he walked right out of a circus.
It says a lot, though, that despite the complete and total pity party he's currently throwing himself, he's beginning to shuffle into the costume anyway. He's grumbling the whole way, but the fact that he just doesn't have it in him to say no to you warms your heart.
You had been so, so eager about this party, and the way your eyes had shined like stars when you told him had long since burned itself into his heart.
wc ; 1.2k
His seemingly endless complaints had tapered off ever so slightly when you shimmied his grasp off of the ruby red suspenders sagging unbuttoned over his chest. By the time you take the fabric into your own hands his protests faded to little more than a mumble under his breath, and with the very first snap of a button in place under your gentle touch he'd quieted completely. Where a look of exasperation had reflected off his face seconds prior, in its place now is that of silent awe, his gaze trained on your every action. The gesture of intimacy is enough to leave Lucifer somewhat choked up, his heart still not used to receiving such acts of adoration and kindness. You tie the cornflower blue fabric adorned with tiny yellow spots into a bow to accentuate the costume and cover his hands briefly with your own as you slip the gloves onto his fingers.
Not twenty minutes had passed, and he finds his attitude regarding the ensemble shifting with every second you take to assist him into it. Each and every part of it looks ridiculous at best, but the thought of you picking it out solely for him has him warming up to the idea.
Declaring your work complete, you raise your grasp ever so slightly, palms holding each of his cheeks close, your thumbs rubbing soft little circles below his eyes. Your affections are sufficient only when finished with a kiss placed on his forehead. ❛ I'm going to go get dressed, okay .ᐣ No peeking. I promise I'll be right back. ❜
The way his wrists on instinct dart out to catch yours to bring you close to him again as you pull back nearly got you. He's extended his lips in a pout once more. You hate to leave him quite so sad looking but you know he'll appreciate what you have planned enough for it to be worth it.
Bathroom door shutting closed behind you, there's the smallest bit of lingering regret that he can't help you to get dressed like you had for him. The outfit itself takes you barely a few moments to slip into -- it's the makeup that requires precision, time and effort. His pacing around the bedroom is audible, impatient steps sounding into stomps, the sounds causing you to choke on a laugh. You need a steady hand for your eyeshadow and that's hard to maintain during an act quite as cute as this.
Nonetheless, your look is finished within half an hour and therefore Lucifer is put out of his misery. It's not a second after the door clicks open that his attention is caught, snapped to the light peaking out of the doorway. Stepping into the small hallway, your eyes are met with his own -- and the way his pupils widen as soon as he gets a glance of your dress makes both your efforts and his complaining worthwhile. His gaze takes you in from top to bottom, each detail enchanting him further. The dress so perfectly hugging your curves is crimson to match him and absolutely breathtaking -- and are you walking towards him .ᐣ Your strut does well to accentuate the slit stitched into the leg, your thigh tantalizing in its display.
Finally reclaiming your place beside him, one of your fingers reaches out, finding purchase under his chin -- and when you tilt his head up you swear you saw his eyes flash red. ❛ Hello, my darling husband, ❜ you coo, sending his already overloaded brain into a frenzy. Husband . . .ᐣ You wanted . . .ᐣ With him, really . . .ᐣ And although he's beginning to put the pieces together and clue in that such a term of endearment was part of your match, you seemed so happy to say it. He snaps his focus back onto just how stunning you look tonight, but the idea has firmly implanted itself into the depths of his mind.
Back into the present time, his hands have begun to roam -- he wants to commit every detail of you to memory, and that includes the feeling of your dresses fabric under his fingertips. His grasp is met with your own, for it's not long before you're pulling the straps of his suspenders, tugging him forward into a kiss. By the time he's recovered from his surprise enough to reciprocate, though, you're already beginning to pull away. He chases your lips with a whine but you've already moved on, pressing a kiss first to his cheek and then to his forehead. It's only when you offer him a small compact mirror does he understand -- each of your kisses has left behind a little bit of the lipstick you oh so painstakingly applied. Your marks on his face have left him entranced, desperately craving more.
A gasp rips itself from those same cherry red lips in surprise -- you weren't expecting him to summon forth his tail, much less wrap it around your midsection and use it to bring you closer. ❛ Kiss me again, ❜ He pleads, desperate and breathy. ❛ Anything for my honey bunny, ❜ you chime, matching the mark on his left cheek with one on the right. ❛ You just look so cute, ❜ between each kiss is another offering of praise and compliments, the blush left in your wake matching excellently. ❛ Who's my handsome bunny .ᐣ ❜
Your multitude of kisses has left Lucifer stunned and looking nothing short of angelic -- even more so than usual. You're fully intending on giving him several more, leaning in to do just that when the wall mounted clock besides you chimes a new hours arrival, alerting you to the time. ❛ Oh, dear. I'm very sorry, Mr. Rabbit, but I'm afraid we simply must be going. We don't want to be late, do we .ᐣ ❜
Fixing your lipstick takes all of a few seconds, leaving you free to grab a makeup wipe off the pouch resting atop your vanity and wipe all of the stains you'd adorned his face with away. A snap of his wrist catches yours just inches from his face, however, halting your plans in their tracks. Confused, you look to him for an explanation, a soft ❛ leave them. please .ᐣ ❜ being all he offers you. ❛ You're going to go to the party like this, love .ᐣ ❜ to which he nods sagely. He can't bear to part with them -- not when the lipstick marks are yours, not when they declare proudly that he is yours.
❛ If you say so, honey. ❜ You can't deny that the prospect leaves your heart fluttering. A grand, golden portal appears with a simple snap of his fingers and he takes your arm, now linked with his own in an attempt to usher you forward. He can't wait to show you off, to watch as other demons eyes glow green as they stare his way. You stay still, though, prompting him to look back at you with an air of confusion. It's then that you lean close, whispering ❛ be a good bunny and there will be more where that came from. too bad we'll have to wait until we come home, hmm .ᐣ ❜
Suddenly Lucifer can't wait for this party to be over.
I still can't believe I'd originally intended this to be 100 words and it ended up over a thousand. I can't help it, I'm so weak for anything Lucifer related. I'm half tempted to write an absolutely filthy post party part 2. If there's enough demand for it .ᐣ I just might.
As always, let me know what you think .ᐣ Hearing back from you guys keeps me motivated ~
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