macnevercries

[macnevercries]

Thee kiddos

[macnevercries]

The frustration that Satoru feels when he completely stops seeing you as just one of his best friends.

You’re so pretty, modeling the dress you’ll be wearing on your date with some guy who probably dims in comparison to you. Suguru says you should try the outfit without the cardigan, so you take it off for a second and do a little 360 for the trio. Shoko gasps when she sees the lacy details that were hidden by the coat and Suguru claps in validation. “You’re so gonna get some.”

Satoru just watches, cheek resting in his fist as he half listens to the little debate between Shoko and Suguru. It’s all a blur as he focuses on the one glowing in front of him.

“Satoru?” You wave your hand in front of him.

“Hm?” He blinks up at you, acting like he wasn't zoned out while staring.

“Tie-breaker. Coat or no coat?”

He had heard what Suguru said when you took the cardigan off. 'You’re so gonna get some.'

He doesn’t want that.

“You should stay layered. You might get cold later.”

Suguru groans in disapproval, falling back into the couch cushion, while Shoko grins, smugly, at her small victory.

“Coat it is.” You smile, running back to the bathroom to finish getting ready.

“You like her, huh?” Suguru asks as soon as you’re out of sight, a squint of betrayal in his eyes.

“Pfft, nah. What makes you think that?” Satoru defends.

“She asked for our opinion on the dress and you went silent," Shoko says, throwing a knowing smirk at Satoru.

“You don’t want her to get laid or something? Why’d you vote for the granny cardigan?” Suguru adds, arms crossed over his chest.

“I want to see you take care of her when she’s sick. I did it last time, and she was unbearable. Also,” he turns to answer Shoko’s remark, “what can I say? I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

“A lot of her on your mind.” Suguru nods over at you.

Satoru turns, a lucent gleam in his eyes when he sees you.

“Alright, guys. I’ll be back before-“

“Don’t rush!” Shoko says, giggling at the dopey look on Satoru’s face.

There’s a smirk tugging on Suguru’s lips. “Have fun.”

“Call if you need me to pick you up," Satoru blurts, sitting up straight on the lounge chair he was seated in.

Shoko gasps and Suguru’s eyes go wide for a second.

“Uh... sure. Will do. Love you guys, bye!” You walk past your friends, opening the front door and shutting it behind you.

Your perfume had some effect on Satoru because for some reason his heart was racing and he was unable to calm it down.

“What?” Satoru asks when he notices the way his friends look at him. “I’m the only one with a car here.”

“Uh-huh, let’s put it that way," Shoko says, sharing a menacing look with Suguru.

—

You did end up having to call Satoru. Your date was the most annoying, insufferable person you had ever met and you weren't going to pretend like you were enjoying your time with him for the rest of the night. How can someone be so different the moment you’re alone together? You couldn’t stand him, so you excused yourself from the table and went to the restroom halfway through your meal.

You called Satoru, hoping he wasn't kidding about calling him if you needed a ride home.

“Hey, uh, I know this is really inconsiderate of me, but can you come pick me up from the restaurant? If you can’t it’s totally fine. I’ll stay.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I'm fine. It turns out I can’t stand this guy.” You chuckle, your hand reaching for the sensor beneath the water faucet, the cool water running through your fingers. "He's gross and just... I don't know."

“Did he do anything to you? Are you okay? ‘Cause, you know, I can kick his ass.”

“You already asked me that, 'toru. I’m okay. He’s just…” you pause, a sigh filling in the silence, “...different from what I remember. I don’t know this guy.”

Satoru is already sitting in his car. The moment you asked him to pick you up, he grabbed his keys and headed for the car.

“Give me ten minutes.”

“It takes twenty to get here.”

“Too bad. I’m running a few red lights. Sit tight.”

“Sa-”

The call ends and you’re left staring at the contact photo you have for him. You turn your screen off and stare into the mirror. You don’t know if you should stay in the bathroom until Satoru gets there or if you should go back out to the man waiting for you.

—

“So, Satoru likes her, huh?” Shoko says, leaning back in the lounge chair Satoru sat in before.

“Who would have guessed? We’ve all been friends for years and he’s never looked at her like that.”

“We should invest in some noise cancelling headphones. Who knows what could happen after tonight?”

Suguru furrows his eyebrows in confusion, so Shoko grins and demonstrates. She rocks back and forth in the old lounge chair, the chair creaking and squealing.

“Oh.” Suguru’s face further scrunches. He didn't need the image of his friends doing that together, in his mind.

—

Your phone vibrates on the sink, and Satoru’s name appears on the screen when you flip it. You quickly answer the call.

“Hey, i’m outside.”

“How do I walk out of here without seeming like a bitch? I didn’t think this through.”

“First, walk out the restaurant doors. Then, get in my car. It’s pretty simple, honestly.”

“We haven’t paid the bill.”

“Fuck it. Let him pay.”

“That’s just wrong. Alright, i’ll be out in a bit. Bye.”

“Bye.”

You sum up all the courage you have and walk out of the bathroom. Once you reach the table, you pull out some cash you have just laying around in your purse, like forty-something bucks, and set it down in the middle of the table.

“Hopefully that’s enough to cover half of it.”

“Where are you going?” Your date asks.

“To keep it polite, I have to go. Have a good rest of your night.”

You walked out of the restaurant, immediately spotting Satoru’s blue Camaro.

The second you get in, you make yourself comfortable, removing your heels and taking down your hair from its updo.

“What’s wrong?” Satoru asks, when you don’t say anything.

“It’s fine. This guy just wasn’t the one.”

Satoru’s chest feels tight now that you’re in the car. The smell of your perfume has returned and you’re glowing in the moonlight. It makes him think of the effort you put into looking the way you do, and how you ended up having to hide in the bathroom.

“Do you wanna go home?”

You’re looking in the sun visor mirror, bobby pins in your mouth as you fix your hair so that it’s not in your face once Satoru starts driving.

“Mm… whatever you want to do,” you say, muffled by the pieces of metal pressing into your lips.

It wouldn’t be whatever he wants to do, though. All he wants to do is kiss you, right now. Do something to soothe the ache you must be feeling.

“Why are you acting like this?” He asks, watching you as you place another pin in your hair.

You laugh through your nose, a bobby pin still between your lips. You put it in your hair before answering.

“Like what?” You look at him while you put your seatbelt on.

“Like this doesn't bother you. You don't have to put up a front, you know? I'm not gonna laugh at you."

The metal clicks, and you fold the sun visor back up. “Because it didn’t bother me. I’m not gonna settle for someone I hate being around."

Part of Satoru wanted this to go well for you. He wanted to see a brilliant smile on your face when you got home. So, the fact that it didn’t end up that way strangely caused some heartache for him.

“Don’t look so down.” You give him a kind smile and pinch his cheek. “I’m okay. Really.”

He tries to distract himself from the warmth that seeps into his cheeks from your quick gesture. “Well, I don’t want to go home. Is that okay, with you?”

“What’s up with you?” You ask, bringing one of your legs up and folding it comfortably on the seat.

“Nothing.”

You stare at him until he breaks out his contagious smile and laugh.

“Really, nothing. I just want to spend some time out tonight. Shoko and Suguru want to stay home and be couch potatoes."

You see your date walking out of the restaurant, phone against his ear. He doesn’t look too defeated, but you don’t want him to see you with Satoru and make any bold assumptions.

“Okay, that’s totally fine, but can we go?” Your leg goes back down, meeting the floor mat and you turn to face the window.

Satoru analyzes your behavior and your expression. Your arms are crossed, you refuse to look in his direction again. It’s weird compared to how you were acting two seconds ago.

“What?” Satoru turns to look at whatever made you shrink, and as soon as he sees him he rolls his window up. “Really?” His eyes are lidded in disappointment. It’s not in you as a person, but in your lack of respect for yourself, choosing someone so far below your league.

“He was nice when I first met him.”

Satoru puts the gear in reverse, backing out of the parking spot. “He looks stupid and on top of that he acts like it, too? God.”

“I know, I know.” You lean against the car door and stare out the window.

“What made you think you deserved him? Honestly, I can’t wrap my head around how low this is for someone like you.”

“I don’t know.”

Your responses to Satoru's interrogation kept getting shorter and shorter and he realized he was beating a horse that was already down.

“You know I care," he mumbles, breaking the heavy silence. “I don’t mean to tell you who to date and who you should be with.”

“I hate this conversation. You’re not my dad, Satoru. It’s fine.” You sit up, back against the seat and face forward. “Where are we, anyway?”

“I just followed a random road to see where it would lead. I don’t wanna go home, but I also don’t want to know where I am.”

“So, we’re lost.” You laugh.

“Hey, as long as we have phones with enough battery, we’re not really lost.”

“Right.” You grin, continuing to watch the road. You look over the steering wheel to see how much gas the car has. It’s two marks below the bold F.

“Can you tell me something?”

You turn to Satoru, giving him your full attention. He’s been more serious than you know him to be since you left the house.

“What’s up?”

“I’m not trying to rehash this father-like conversation, but as one of your best friends… what were you thinking when you accepted a date with this guy?” He glances over at you for a second. “What went through your mind when you said 'yes' to a date with him?”

“Potential love, dates, butterflies. All the stuff that goes into getting to know someone as more than an acquaintance or friend.” You fidget with the extra hair tie on your wrist.

“You want all of that?” He asks, glimpsing at you again.

You nod, silently.

“You’re pretty enough to fuck around with whoever you want, you know? I know some people who wanna do some pretty... vulgar things with you."

Your eyes go wide at how far south the conversation went. You cracked the second you looked at Satoru though. He looked somewhat proud to be friends with someone who could get some anytime.

“That’s… good to know, I guess.” Your mind stumbles over the part where he called you pretty enough.

“You’re not interested in that, though, are you?”

You wince, jokingly. “It’s just not my cup of tea. I want something more long-term.”

Satoru grins, almost like he wants to talk about himself.

“That’s not your cup of tea, is it?” You reciprocate the grin.

“No, no. Believe it or not, the last relationship I was in lasted a whole two months.”

You slapped the car door dramatically. “A whole two months?!”

“Stop it. It’s nothing, really," Satoru jokes, grinning with faux pride.

“Hey, i’m not shaming you. You’re not down with commitment and that’s fine. We're young. There's no need to rush."

“I haven’t found someone I really want to commit to. I'm not stupid enough to ignore the fact that people are really only attracted to my body. They can't stand when I open my mouth, so I figured it’s better to fuck around than to put my heart into something that won’t last without sex.”

Satoru's personality was for people with acquired taste. On the other hand, Satoru's physical appearance was for anyone and everyone. The people who could appreciate all of him would be in for the most amazing ride, because even as his friend, you could confidently say that there is no one like him anywhere in the world. You can only hum in acknowledgement of how romantically lonely he must feel.

“What?” You ask when the car stops. Satoru puts the car in park before turning it off. “We’re not out of gas, so what’s the problem?”

He unbuckles his seatbelt and turns to face you, one leg bent on the seat. He’s met with a breathtaking sight. You look stunning in that navy blue dress, and that shade smeared over your lips was calling his name. He can see part of your thigh from where your dress rides up.

“Can I talk to you about something?” The tension behind the question was enough to make your ears go red.

“Of course you can. You’re scaring me, but go on.”

He smiles, trying to lighten up the mood. He knows better than to just dump information like this on you so heavily, but he can't go home tonight without telling you how he feels. He already doesn’t expect much to come of telling you this, but it's been eating him alive and he can't keep it in anymore.

“You've been on my mind a lot, lately." He sees your slightly furrowed eyebrows. They match the unintentional pout on your lips. You’re confused and for some reason you feel nervous, like your heart might escape your ribcage.

“What does that mean?” You ask, wanting a clearer understanding. He could be worried about you in a totally platonic way. He could be wondering about what you've been up to lately. You're having trouble assuming there's romantic notes to his statement after the brief discussion you just had.

“It's exactly as it sounds. I've been thinking about you." He's not smiling, he's not laughing yet this still sounds like a joke that he’s running to mess with you.

“You done with your jokes? We could both be home right about now," you say, not intending for your words to come out as sharp as they did. His hand is suddenly cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing away a speck of glitter from it.

“You say goodnight to me in the sweetest way—like you won't see me in the morning. And the soft smile you give me before you shut the door... it lingers in my mind. I dream of it from time to time."

You're trying so hard not to lean into his touch and nuzzle your cheek into his palm, but you make no effort to push his hand away. “What are you talking about, Satoru? Don't you think you're reading into it a little too much? I do that for all three of you. Ask Shoko and Suguru.”

His hand has been on your cheek for a while now, and he’s still looking at you like he has things to get off his chest. “I know you don't say it the same way to them as you do to me." He stops, a little sigh leaving him. He’s probably making you dizzy with all of this news, based on the look on your face. He retracts his hand and rests it on his thigh. You look stunned, so he cuts to the chase. “To be even more clear, I don’t see you as a friend. It doesn’t seem right to see you that way when I can picture us doing more. Being more."

“Doing more?” You repeat, cheeks growing warm.

“Holding hands, kissing, being alone together—more.”

The heavy silence returns, both of you nervously avoiding eye contact.

“I..." you huff. "I need some air.” You unbuckle yourself before exiting the car. Your scent remains in the car even after the door shuts behind you, leaving Satoru to wonder if things are screwed with you.

Your back is against the door, your hands interlocked in front of your eyes, shielding you from the gentle moonlight. You groan, irritated by the conflicted thoughts that came with Satoru's revelation.

It’s not long before Satoru comes out and joins you, leaning on the side of his car. It's cold and he doesn't want you to get sick again. His heart could barely handle your involuntarily weak display the first time.

“I didn’t stress you out, did I?” He asks, turning his head to look at you. You shake your head, your hands still covering your eyes. “There’s really no part of you that can envision an us between me and you?”

You chuckle, a sound that makes his heart pang. “It’s funny... you know, a long time ago it was all I dreamed about.”

Now this was baffling news to Satoru. How long ago was a long time ago? A couple months ago? Last year? Three years ago? And why didn’t you say anything?

“I considered you a pursuit that was out of reach. You had—have— all these girls just throwing themselves at you, and I couldn’t be one of them, so I befriended you instead.”

“How long ago was a long time ago?” He asks, nervous to hear the answer.

“Like last year in March. It was during your phase where you would never come home.”

He feels like an asshole. Especially since not too much later, he developed similar feelings for you that he endlessly denied.

“You liked the me you never got to see?”

You both chuckled at the rhyme of his words, your broken senses of humor adding some lightheartedness to the conversation.

“I guess you not coming home was more calming because I didn't have to be nervous to see you.”

You crossed your arms. The cardigan protected you, but not enough. The cold wind was starting to nip at your cheeks. Satoru notices and moves closer to you.

“Let’s go back inside, yeah?”

You didn’t want to. You were nervous being “stranded” with Satoru already, but minimizing the space between you was even more nerve-wracking. He was your greatest temptation before, and you could easily create those labyrinths that guide him into your mind again if you got close enough.

“I’ll be fine," you say, looking straight ahead at the field of weeds in front of you.

“You’re gonna catch a cold. Get in the car," Satoru prompts. He thought back to the tired look on your face as you laid in bed sick, waiting for him to bring you warm soup.

“No," you insisted, turning away from him.

He inched closer, not wanting to look at your back. “Please, get in the car." He thought of the gracious look on your sick face when he brought you another blanket to keep you warm.

“I said no, Satoru. I don't want to get in the car with you."

You were being stubborn as hell, and something about it made Satoru’s blood boil to the point where he did whatever his mind told him to do. You were suddenly pinned to the car, your hands on Satoru’s chest to keep some distance. He blocked every gust of wind that threatened to bite at your skin, and enveloped you in his warmth. You don’t know how, but in this freezing temperature, Satoru’s hands felt like sunlight on your cheeks. His face was centimeters away from yours, his bright eyes searching for a loophole in your feelings for him. Your eyes spoke with an infinite amount of possibility, and some of it didn't make sense, so he kissed you in hopes of translating what you were trying to say.

You didn’t have any fight left in you. Not when you felt so secure in this close proximity. Now, all you wanted was to be in the car with him, alone.

The kiss was released with light breaths from both of you, a look of feeling complete on Satoru’s face. “Will you get in the damn car,” he whispers, his arms caging you against the car.

“Say please," you say in the same intimate volume as him.

“Please," he complies, allowing his eyes to flit between your eyes and your lips.

“Pretty please?" you push.

“Pretty please," he says, the corners of his lips twitching.

“How about pretty please with a cherry on top?”

“Get in the car," he says through a laugh.

You chuckle, shoving him lightly before opening the door and entering the car. Satoru gets in the drivers seat and suddenly it all feels strange. Strange, but in the best way.

The tension from before returns. There's no wind blowing to fill in the silence when you both stop talking.

“Do you ever think of me when you're alone?” It was a weird question to be asked by him, especially since you had already told him that your feelings for him were left behind.

“Never," you reply, a softness in your tone that held memories of when all you thought about was Satoru.

He's somewhat disappointed, seeing as though there's a chance he might be too late.

“Do you think that will change after tonight?” He seems to be getting closer, or at least his hands are. Your skin is irresistible and he wants to feel how soft you are. He's been craving you for so long, and you're right there.

“There’s no way to tell.” You can see how slowly his hand is traveling. A minute ago it was on his lap, now it’s on the armrest between your seats. You can’t wait any longer. The suspense might make you jump out of the car again, so you grab his hand and put it on your thigh, where your dress rides up.

“I’ll throw the question back to you. Do you think of me when you're alone?” You ask him now because he won’t give you some bullshit response at a time like this, when he’s getting everything he’s wanted for who knows how long.

“All the time,” he responds so quickly. “When I wake up, before I go to sleep, in the shower, while I brush my teeth.” There’s this foolish look on his face, like he would give anything to never lose the ability to have you on his mind all the time. "You're in there, organizing the shrine I made for you," he admits, with a grin. His thumb presses into your thigh, massaging the plush skin. It makes you nervous as hell, but you like it.

“Have you told Suguru and Shoko?”

He chuckles, remembering the conversation he had with them after you left. “I’m positive they know."

Once again, you're left staring at each other in silence, drowning in the tension you’ve created within yourselves. Satoru has yet to move his hand away from your thigh, not letting up even when he feels goosebumps spread on your skin. He tests the boundaries you have set up, finding no resistance from you when his hand reaches further up your dress.

“You’re not gonna tell me to stop?” He asks as his fingers are met with lace, a texture that makes his heart thud rapidly in his chest.

You shake your head, leaning back in the seat. His fingers ghost over the front of your panties, finding a satin bow just below the elastic band.

“Were you going to let that guy touch you? Is that why you wore these?” He hasn’t even seen them, and yet he can tell they’re the cutest thing ever.

“Maybe," you mumble, looking away in slight embarrassment.

“Can I see them?” He asks.

You nod, allowing him to slowly pull up your dress. Your heart drops when you hear him gasp.

“God, no way," he says, sounding defeated. His ears slowly turn a bright shade of red as he observes the material covering your intimate area.

“Stop,” you whine, feeling flustered by his reaction and the way he stares.

His hand returns to its previous spot, continuing to play with the part of the elastic that sticks to your hip.

“You wear these types of panties on every date you go on?”

You nod, biting your lip as his fingers move just to feel the fabric. His touch is still ghost-like—light, barely there, but it’s working you up anyway. There’s barely enough friction, yet you can feel your wetness begin to ruin the garment.

He sighs. “You know, no one deserves you.” His tone is smooth and he smiles at you, an angel taking control of his features. “Not even me, but I can make up for the one who missed you tonight.”

He spares his attention to the spot in the middle of your panties, only smiling when a breathy moan involuntarily leaves you.

“God..." you groan in embarrassment, covering your face with your hands. "I can’t with myself."

His thumb rubs up and down your clothed slit, applying pressure when he reaches your clit.

“Don’t be shy. Make as much noise as you want,” he says, luring a gasp from you.

You look away again, red-faced, feeling embarrassed beyond belief.

“What?” A low chuckle follows. His hands settle on your thighs as he leans in and tries to look at your flustered face.

“This is weird.” You look out the window, too nervous to look at Satoru.

“How come?”

You giggle. “I can’t stop seeing you as one of my friends. It’s strange to experience something like this with you.”

“I would hope Suguru and Shoko aren’t touching you like this.” His hand splays on your thigh, kneading softly. “Are they?” He asks, after a pause.

“Of course not.”

He seems satisfied with that response because he’s trying to hold back a smile, but the corners of his lips are twitching. His fingers snap the elastic band of your panties against your skin a couple more times.

“Is it too weird to go on?” He asks.

You consider the facts. He already touched you, he confessed his feelings for you before he touched you so you know he wasn't lying about his feelings for you and he doesn’t just want sex. You had those feelings for him before, but claimed to have lost them with time.

Your overwhelming thoughts are enough to put an end to what was going on. You pull down your dress, hiding the evidence of his touch, and sit up straight in the seat. “Maybe we should head home before we do something we might regret later.”

He hums and smiles, not an ounce of disappointment in his features. “No argument from me."

Satoru put his seatbelt on and watched as you did the same before starting the car. There was no need for him to set up the GPS because all he did was drive straight, so all he had to do was drive back the other way.

You didn’t expect the car ride to be so quiet. Maybe he did want things to go further. You couldn’t bear to look back at Satoru, even though you could feel him side eyeing you as he drove. There were a couple times where he turned his head to look at you when you stopped at red lights, but you knew you couldn’t look back until you had something to say. You were overthinking everything that happened until that point. What can you say when you just went through an entire roller coaster of emotions with someone you call a best friend? Someone who has now seen you in a vulnerable position.

“Did you at least eat?” Satoru asks, finally breaking the heavy silence that engulfed the car.

“Uh, yeah. I was able to get through my meal," you respond, glancing at him quickly before turning back to face the window.

He nods in acknowledgement. You see the stop sign at the end of your street, signaling the closeness of home.

Satoru parks the car in the driveway, and you finish removing you shoes. You enter the house, expecting to see Suguru and Shoko up waiting for you guys, but to your surprise, the doors to their bedrooms are shut.

“Goodnight, Satoru," you say. “Thanks again, for picking me up.”

“Yeah, no worries,” he responds. “Goodnight.”

You can’t shake the void left in your gut after your time with Satoru. You sit on your bed for a moment thinking of the intimacy that occurred between you and him. The gentleness of his touch, the lack of judgement from him when you basically told him that you dress your best even for scumbags. Something inside you was begging you to tell him how much you wanted him to sleep in your room—in your bed. And that’s exactly what you aimed for with this rush of adrenaline that surged through you. You rose off the bed quickly, and made haste to reach his bedroom.

You knocked, calling his name once. Once was all it took for him to leap to open the door.

“Can you help me with something?” You asked, hoping he held no ill will towards you and that he wouldn’t deny you.

“Sure. With what?”

You motion for him to follow you to your room, and he does with no further questions, following your bare feet as you lead him to your room.

“I tied the knot for my dress a little too tightly." You let out a quiet chuckle, your nervousness imbued into it.

“Oh, I see," he says, stifling a grin. "Turn around.” His finger circles in the air.

You turn your back to him, facing the mirror on your vanity. You can feel his knuckles grazing your lower back as he takes the time to slowly loosen the knot, the straps that once sat wrapped around your waist dropping loosely.

“There,” he murmurs, still standing behind you, looking at you through the mirror.

“Thank you,” you say so quietly that it’s almost a whisper.

Normally, that is the cue for someone to leave, but there was this branch of electricity connecting him to you. He couldn’t find a reason to step away from you, so instead he stepped closer. His arms encircled your waist, his hands interlocking above your lower abdomen. Your stomach swarmed with butterflies—blood thirsty ones that knew all too well that they wouldn't be leaving anytime soon, so long as Satoru was in your room.

He leaned in to kiss your shoulder, an act that brought goosebumps to your skin. "You look really pretty." You give in to the feeling, tilting your head to give him the entire canvas of that side of your neck. He wondered if you would be upset if you saw his kisses on your neck in the morning.

He stops and looks for your approval first because he has arrived centimeters behind the line between friends who are really comfortable with each other and something deeper. You have to let him know that it’s okay to cross this line.

“It’s okay,” you say, squeezing the hands that rest on your lower stomach. “Don't stop."

That’s the green light he needed in order to move on. He did not hesitate at all in pulling back his arms and undoing the knot that held your dress up. He watched as the smooth velvet cascaded down your body, pooling at your feet, leaving you in nothing but those precious lace panties. You felt vulnerable with your bare chest out, but made no attempt to hide yourself.

He was frozen for a second or two, speechless at the sight before him.

“No one deserves you,” he finally says, his arms snaking around your torso. His lips start leaving behind their marks on the other side of your neck. He drags his kisses down your shoulder, biting once, then twice, resulting in a couple giggles from you.

“Close the door, please,” you say, realizing Shoko and Suguru would see what was happening if they opened their doors.

Satoru releases you only to close the door, locking it for safe measures. As soon as he’s back, he’s wrapping his arms around you before pushing both of you towards your bed. He starts stripping his clothes off, until he's left in just his boxers. His eyes never leave yours, a lovestruck smile on his face.

“You will never know how many times I’ve dreamt of this scenario."

“Stop.” You giggle, withstanding the sting of his lips on more than you neck. It’s heat on your chest and on your stomach now, his hands holding your waist so gently. You’ll look like some abstract piece of art by morning with the endless waves of kisses that Satoru gives you. He wants you so badly. Devastatingly so. He wants to prove that he is the closest to deserving you by the end of the night.

Your heartbeat is inconsolable in your ribcage. The eye contact brought some reality to the situation. He chuckles at the doe-eyed look on your face before refocusing on his task. He's nearing the elastic band of your underwear, those cute lacy ones he got to touch in the car. His touch is already affecting you, the evidence being a wet spot reemerging in the middle of your underwear.

"You're so warm and soft, and..." he sighs, your body making his mind cloud. He couldn't have ever accurately imagined how stunning you would be with just the golden street lamp's light shining through your window. "...you smell really fucking good." His hands go beneath the elastic band of your underwear, dragging his dainty fingers through your slit enough times to earn a small gasp from you, before pulling his hand out. "Bet you taste amazing, too," he says, wrapping his lips around his glossy digits. "Mhm..." he practically moans when your taste coats his tastebuds. "Sweeter than I could have ever imagined."

You don't think you'll get over Satoru saying these explicit things to you.

"More. Fuck, I need more." There's so much he wants to do to you, so little time in the night despite it only being 11:30. "God, you're so..." he cuts himself off and kisses down your stomach, impatiently—desperately. "...so pretty. So—fuck— so pretty. Gonna make you feel so good."

"Okay, 'toru, make sure to breathe," you tease, running your fingers through his soft locks as he nears your throbbing core.

He drags his nose up and down the wet patch of your panties, audibly inhaling your scent and exhaling through shuddered breaths. He sounds feral, his aching cock creating its own pool of arousal in his boxers. The tip of his nose was covered in your slick, the remnants of you on his skin driving him absolutely crazy. Once he absolutely couldn't take it anymore, he yanked your underwear down, almost tearing the pretty fabric and tossed it onto the floor. You were soaked at the sight of his pure lust towards you. Those eyes were darker than you've ever seen them before.

He tries to be slow and gentle for you. You're the one thing he's wanted for the longest time and now he has you. You're not guaranteed to be his forever, after this, but at least the night is secured and he has this one chance to prove that he would do it right with you. That he could handle your body with a tenderness and loving that would make you weep. Everything you want in a lover will be given to you in one act of demonstrating how undeniably in love with you he is.

His attempt at slow sensuality never reaches you. His arms are hooked tightly around your thighs to prevent you from squirming away from his greedy mouth. He wants everything you give him to never end. The melodic sound of you moaning his name, the sweet nectar that just keeps drooling out of your cunt, the sting on his scalp from the firm hold you have on his hair and the tugging. He's in heaven. If the possibility of this reoccurring is nonexistent, he wants this moment to loop. For there to be a glitch in real life that allows him to replay this scenario as many times as he likes, like a story with multiple endings.

"You taste so good. So fucking good, princess. Wanna give you a taste," he rambles. He unwraps his right arm from your thigh and uses his forearm to pin it down so that he can use his fingers on you. He bends all his fingers down except for his index and middle fingers. Your slick is already streaming out of you, ready to be collected, but he can't resist the urge to dip his fingertips into your pulsing hole. "Oh fuck, you're so wet," he utters in awe, quickly tossing the idea of just his fingertips going in when his long, lithe fingers sink into you with ease.

"Satoru," you choke out, a sharp gasp following. The pads of his fingers brush against that spot within you that forces you to bite your lip. Your heart is racing. What if you get caught? How would you explain what's going on to your friends and would the dynamic of your living situation change because of it? You care, but clearly not enough to second guess this moment again, like you did in the car.

"Mmm..." he moans against your clit, his lips smacking after releasing the now throbbing bundle. "So sweet." He pulls his fingers out of you and admires the glaze that drips down to his knuckles. He wants to be selfish and put them in his mouth, but his need for you to know how good you are to his tastebuds overpowers those thoughts. "Open, pretty," he says, tapping his wet fingers against your lips. He watches with parted lips as you take his slick coated digits into your mouth, shutting your lips around them to completely suck off your essence. "Good, huh?" A pleased grin appears when you nod. "Yeah... I want it back." He pulls his fingers out of your mouth and puts them on your right breast, smearing your saliva all over your nipple until it pebbles.

All you can do is say "huh?" before your lips are enveloped by his. The kiss starts out slow— he's taking a moment to appreciate how perfect your lips feel against his. For a minute you can feel the way he innocently wants you. You have butterflies in your stomach all over again.

His hunger for you grows with every sharp breath you release and the squirming beneath his unrelenting hands on your chest. Your heart has been pounding in your ears since he slipped his tongue into your mouth and you have goosebumps from all the rubbing, brushing, and tweaking he offers your nipples, the throbbing in your cunt only intensifying as you withstand it. He thinks the whimpers that seep into your kisses are the cutest sounds ever and he doesn't want them to stop, so he glides a hand down your abdomen and gives you the touch you're missing.

You break the kiss, throwing your head back into the pillow at the feeling of Satoru rubbing your clit. He watches through gleaming eyes the way your jaw hangs and allows the sweetest moans to spill from your kissed up lips.

"Feeling good?" He asks, grinning when you respond with a moan that makes you clasp a hand over your mouth. "Yeah? That's an answer, too." He chuckles, watching intently as you crumble beneath his touch, not some zero's who made a fool out of himself.

You uncover your mouth, your sounds amplifying and flowing freely. "Satoru," you gasp. "Oh, fuck– S-Satoru!" The last words you manage to cry out before you cum without a warning.

You look way too pretty arching your back off the bed and chasing friction from his hand. Your neck looks palpable like that, exposed for him like you want him to mark it up and take a few bites.

"Let me make you feel good, pretty girl," he coos, drunk off the cute sounds of the heaves and sobs that wrack through your chest, your little whines shining through them. Lustful, lidded eyes watch as you try to wriggle away from his touch.

"P-Please," you huff out, your trembling thighs working to shut around his hand. It's too much, your peak has passed and now you're left to bear the overwhelming feeling of his unstopping fingers.

"I know, I know. It's terrible..." he murmurs. His tip is leaking so much at the sight of your body jerking and your eyes welling with tears. He really loves the way you've surrendered yourself to him. "You're so pretty." He sighs, dreamily. He stops and wiggles his hand out of the tight embrace of your thighs. You take a deep breath and blink away tears, focusing on the comforting movement of his hands caressing your thighs. He can see the way you look at his body. His chest, the sculpted muscles of his abdomen, the pale happy trail that leads to a part of him that you are unfamiliar with.

He crawls over you, his lower body wedged between your legs. "Don't be scared to touch," he says, his tone sultry. He grabs ahold of your hand and places it on his chest, initiating the contact for you. You take control and allow your hands to roam his body. Like you're in a room full of random unpressed buttons, you explore the different reactions you get from touching different parts of him. You discovered that his nipples are sensitive. He groaned into your neck when you palmed at his pecs and borderline whimpered when you focused your touch on his peaks. He shuddered when you traced along his ribs, but once you neared his stomach and waist, things got hot for you all over again. Your heart raced as he breathed into your neck due to the feeling of your nails gently scratching along his abs. He was rutting his clothed bulge against your cunt, desperate, low moans leaving him with every graze of your nails along his waist.

"F-Fuck, I can't wait anymore. Please, let me in." He whips out the cutest puppy eyes you've ever seen, and though they're unnecessary, you're not opposed to him having to resort to those means.

"Y-Yeah, okay," you breathe, feeling the throbbing in your cunt intensify when he stopped rolling his hips against you.

He's rushing, his movement stuttered and his hands shaking with desperation as he works his boxers off. He's impressed with the amount of precum that went into them, but he doesn't waste time admiring the mess any longer once he frees his achingly hard, drooling cock. It's sensitive to the touch. He'll cum if he doesn't play his cards right while lathering his length with the essence that beads at his tip. With that taken care of, he comes close to you again.

"This is gonna be the slowest start ever," he says under his breath, eyeing that sweet little smile on your face, like you understand the turmoil he's going through with just trying to get inside you. His tip nudges your clit, spreading some of his precum onto the nub as he guides it up and down your slit a couple times. He's working himself up to sinking in because he knows how wet you are. After a few more strokes, he presses just the tip in, nestling it into your warmth with a groan. You gasp as he slowly drives himself into you, the stretch his girth induces proving to be immense. He tries to steady his stuttering hips as he pushes more of his length in.

"Little more, just a liiittle more," he says through soft breaths, more to himself than you. Once he glides the rest of his length in, he feels like he's going to explode. He's throbbing so hard and you're not helping at all with the brief, inconsistent spasming of your walls. "Oh fuck... shit," he whimpers, thrusting only halfway into you. "Sorry—fuck—s-sorry... I can't-" He gasps when he thrusts the rest of the way in, spewing his load as he just grinds against you.

Your eyes widen as you watch him, his eyes shut tightly, his jaw hanging ajar to release shaky breaths. His cheeks, neck and chest are blazed, bright color smothered over his pale skin.

"Shit..." he rasps, still taking deep breaths.

You can't even ridicule him for this when he looks so fine. The laugh he let out was enough to make your thighs twitch.

"It's alright, Satoru. It's getting pretty late, anyway."

"No-the-fuck it's not," he says, looking down at you with the smallest crease between his brows. He's wanted this—wanted you—for way too long and he can't leave your room without showing you just how badly he desires you. It's a need, at this point.

A chill runs down your spine and your heart drops at his response.

"I mean, i'm not tired. Are you?" He asks, softening a little after coming in so hot with his last response.

You're not and even if you were, it's those eyes... They compel you to want to do things for his sake. They're so soft and you feel wanted beneath their force. You feel everything he said to you in the car when you peer into his eyes.

"No. I'm not tired either," you respond, which instantly puts a smile on his face.

"Good. Let me try again."

Neither of you mentioned any of what happened within that quick span of time. No mentions of him spilling the second he got inside you or you trying to end the night to save him the embarrassment, and it turned out for the better. No awkwardness once he recovered and went back to proving his love for you. He went straight into it, thrusting at a slow pace to start you off. He held onto your hips as he leaned in and kissed all over your chest, sucking your delicate skin to leave little reminders of him for you to see in the morning.

He groans, muffled by your warm skin, when you scratch the back of his head, guiding your nails through the short hairs of his undercut and down the nape of his neck. He's purring like a satisfied cat, the soft breaths he lets out through his nose grazing your neck.

With all these good feelings comes Satoru picking up the pace. His hips meet yours a little more quickly and suddenly both of you get a little more courage to make more sound.

"Fuck," you whimper. "Satoru... S-Satoru..."

"I know..." he grunts. "I know, baby. I feel really good, too."

You just look so damn pretty, with your starry eyes and your messy hair, and the way you keep moaning his name. He has to kiss you again. Each time he kissed you before was accompanied by fireworks. This time... who knows? He certainly won't unless he gains the courage to do it once more.

He leans forward and stares deep into your eyes. The level of intimacy has doubled down and you feel like your heart is trying even harder to lurch out of your chest. He's not stopping, you can feel his breath on your lips as he pants through the exertion of his hips. Then, once again, with a whimper as he closes the distance between your mouths, he kisses you. It's not fireworks this time, it's an entire fire and you kissing him back like you need him just as much is fanning the wild flames.

"Love... you," he disperses the words through his kisses. He doesn't only say it once. He says it multiple times as your lips are moving, making those pauses purposeful. "Fuck– I love you," he repeats, breaking the kiss when you don't say anything. "Come on," he chuckles. "Say it back."

"Satoru..." you say, softly.

"You say it all the time to us. What's another time?"

You bite back a laugh when you see those brilliant eyes again. He knows the effect they have on people and uses them to his advantage.

"It doesn't..." he groans, cursing under his breath when you suddenly clench around him. "...have to mean anything more than it usually does."

You're hesitant, but figure that as long as he doesn't take it as more than what he's used to—at least until things are talked through—there can't be any harm in saying what he wants to hear.

"Love you, 'toru."

The words are way too sweet, too gentle on his ears. The smile you offered as you delivered those words was devastatingly beautiful. You've said this a million times, each time so friendly, so lovingly, the meaning never feigned or faded with its repetition, but in that moment, he felt the words more than he ever did before. Your plush thighs are pressed against his hips, your hands are on his chest, and he can still smell that perfume you spritzed on your skin before you left. He's never heard you like this before, so sultry that it almost seems like an invasion of privacy.

"Again... say it again, p-please." With the scene that is playing out before his very eyes, he wants to imagine you meaning it as a term for lovers.

"I-I..." you let out a sharp gasp, your words cut off by the feeling of his cock brushing against that weak spot within you. "I love y-you, Satoru."

You're saying it to him only, right now. It's not 'I love you guys', it's 'I love you, Satoru', and he's drowning in it all. Your voice, the words, the blissed out look on your face. He's weak.

"Yeah?" He laughs, sounding almost delirious from how good he feels and how he's trying so hard not to cum.

"Mhm," you respond.

"T-That's good to know," he says, breathily. He's picking up the pace again, almost knocking the wind out of you with that first thrust in the change of pace. You're scratching up his back, wrapping your legs around his waist while he moans into the crook of your neck.

"G-Gonna cum, gonna fucking cum, again."

"Please... cum inside," you babble, nonsensically.

"Yeah? You want it inside again?" He asks, grinning when you hum and nod in confirmation. Who is he to deny you of such a simple want?

With a few more harder thrusts, he's filling you to the brim again with his warm cum. He's breathing heavily into your neck, mouthing at your skin sloppily as your cunt flutters around him. He's babbling on and on asking you if you came and if you feel good, while you're trying not to cry out too loudly from how hard you did. It's only until he unsticks himself from your tacky skin that he sees the aftermath of your orgasm. Your lidded eyes, the rapid rise and fall of your chest, the sound of your shuddered breaths brushing past your lips. He's thinking about it again. No one deserves you, but clearly, he was the closest.

He tosses himself beside you once you both come down. Your blanket is shared between the two of you, it reaches just above your chest and above Satoru's hips.

He sighs as he turns over to face you as you stare up at the ceiling. "You think they heard us?" He asks, voice low and intimate, yet a mischievous smirk that tells you he wouldn't care if they did, plays on his lips.

"Not sure. I guess we'll find out tomorrow." Now it's your turn to sigh. You don't even want to think about how weird breakfast might be in the morning.

"Hey," he calls for your attention. You turn onto your side to face him, keeping the blanket close to your body. "It's gonna be fine. What's the worst that could happen? They tease us or call us dumb?" You give him a soft smile. Normally, you're the one calling him dumb while the others agree. "Don't know about you, but I don't mind. They don't know the story, anyway. Right?"

"Right."

Time slowed down in that moment. You both just stared at each other in silence, thinking about what just happened. You were comfortable together, lying there, satisfied with your decisions. He pulled you closer by your blanket covered waist and pressed kisses into your cheek, enough to make you giggle until you started returning the kisses. To anybody, this would be considered a sight of two lovers taking care of each other after a night of intimacy. The whispered words, the quiet laughter between kisses, the gentle drags of fingers on harsh marks—it all points to love. You think things might be okay, after all.

It took a while for you and Satoru to untangle yourselves from each other. Eventually, he got up and dressed into everything but his messy boxers. You weren't going to get back into your dress so you laid back for a while and watched as he collected himself.

"Well... I'll see you in the morning." His hand is on the doorknob and he's looking at you, shamelessly raking his eyes over your body as if he's trying to memorize you all over again within the short span of his goodnight to you.

"Mhm. Goodnight."

He pulls the door open, still not detaching his gaze from you. "Goodnight," he says, his voice low, yet warm and brimming with love. He spares one more soft smile for you, before walking out and clicking the door shut behind him.

You think you finally understand why he's so hung up on the way you say goodnight.

[macnevercries]

Hidden Inventory / Premature Death fan poster 🌊

[macnevercries]

cough cough

[macnevercries]

He hates the rain :(

[macnevercries]

➣ includes : brother's best friend! suna rintaro. oh and also small age gap between him and the reader, only two ish years though. LOWKEY SUGGESTIVE? one mention of the reader not wearing a bra if that is something u deem suggestive.

note : i'm so in love with romantic and sexual tension between u n suna it's so fun to write! also lmk if u want a pt2 or something not sure what i'd do for a pt2 but y'all can send in some ideas lol

suna rintaro who is your brother’s best friend… he likes seeing you around the house, ready for bed looking so cute in your comfy shorts and a little top n no bra. he likes that he gets to see what you look like everyday instead of only seeing you dolled up. he likes when you’re glammed, of course, you always look stunning. he just likes stealing glances of you do everyday tasks.

like tonight, in the kitchen far too late in the night, he’ll lean against the doorframe as he watches you make a snack. he notices the curves of your shoulders, and how the small of your back peeks out from your top riding up a little. you’re still humming the song you’ve had stuck in your head all day. you turn around and surprised to see him, you gasp, causing him to widen his lazy half smile. you roll your eyes, party because he scared you, but also because he looks way too good. hands shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants loose around his hips, hair messy, and a white tank top on that fits him perfectly. he looks like a slut.

“what could you possibly want,” you sigh, and he shrugs in response. “just wanna see what you’re up to”

“where’s my brother? shouldn’t you be hanging with him?” you question, pointing a strawberry pop tart at him accusingly.

“he’s asleep” he closes the distance between you to take the pop tart out of your hand, taking a rather generous bite.

“rin stop, oh my god you just ate like half of it,” you exclaim, snatching it back, “you’ve already cleaned out half the fridge, when will your greedy ass be satisfied?”

“rin?” he cocks his head, his sleepy smile settling into a smug one, “you haven’t called me that since, like, elementary school” the eye contact he so casually maintains is difficult for you to keep, and your face gets furiously hot, looking away. “yeah well, i kind of thought you were embarrassed by it, so i got embarrassed and i stopped” you try to exit the conversation and walk past him to the doorway he was just standing in, trying to signal that you were going to leave to your bedroom. he follows you, much to your dismay. he leans against the doorway, his back to it, and you mimick his action. you're both looking directly at each other, and it feels weirdly intimate. seeing each other face on meant he could see every expression on your face.

“why would you think that? i wasn’t embarrassed.” he says, his eyes scan you from your painted toenails to the top of your head, but inevitably looking into your eyes. after a beat of hesitation, he continues talking. “...you know, i had a crush on you then. i was really sad when you stopped calling me it.”

the heat in your face returns as he laughs. how can he sit there and laugh after dropping this insane piece of information??

“you’re kidding. i totally liked you back, why didn’t you tell me sooner?” you look at him incredulously, mouth agape and growing annoyed as you realize he was not as shocked finding out your feelings as you were in learning his.

“yeah, i figured. but your brother, you know? and just in case i wasn’t right, i didn’t want you to reject me and then show up at your house the next day to watch movies with your brother” he had a point. you remember those movie nights. you always wanted to watch with them, but your brother would always say no and kick you out of the room. suna always let you watch anyways, offering a seat on the couch beside him despite his best friend’s wishes.

the movie nights were not the only thing your mind was pondering on. if he knew about your crush then, did he know now? your feelings were much too complicated for you to call it a crush, and you'd like to think you've learned how to be at least a little subtle, so maybe he didn't know.

"that’s crazy. we just barely missed each other i guess” you finally say with a chuckle that turns into a thoughtful hum, glancing anywhere but his eyes.

"what? so, you don't have a crush on me anymore?" oh, so he did know. he easily closes the gap between you two, and for once, it doesn't seem like he's teasing you. "rin..." you say, mouth slightly open like you're going to add something else, but you don't. "i don't think we missed anything... am i wrong?" he leans towards, and you swear he's going to kiss you but he stops before your lips touch, "you can tell me if i'm wrong."

you grab his shirt and pull him in to press your lips against his, bringing him into a surprising, but long kiss. his hands thread through your hair, lingering in the moment. when you break away, they slide from your hair to the sides of your neck, and he has the dumbest smile on his face. "definitely not wrong."

[macnevercries]

my type?

4.3 K words

summary - Yuuji Itadori is a total knockout boyfriend - the only hitch? You’re nothing like his usual type of woman, and it’s making you unsure.

warnings - 18+!, femreader with jugs and vagene, p in v sex, unrealistic car sex, specifically stated that reader is non-tall with big tits, dumbification for both parties, squirting, non-curse AU where sukuna and yuuji are brother-roommates, unprotected sex

Itadori, Yuuji was an amazing boyfriend - something straight out of a top-selling shoujo manga.

Faithful and doting and affectionate. He handed over his hoodies the moment you mentioned an unpleasant breeze, he proudly held your hand in public, and he boasted about the very act of dating you to anyone with ears. But even those displays felt backhanded, the deeper you dug into your own mind. You had no real reason to complain about the situation.

And you especially had no reason when the cause behind your complaints would be so shallow.

You had an ass in the same way that everybody else did, but nothing comparable to the pin-up poster Yuuji tore down when you two started dating. Or his celebrity fascination, Jennifer Lawrence (which also mysteriously stopped being mentioned when you two started dating).

Rather, your body was much more endowed in ways that made Nobara tease as you passed lingerie stores with hot pink lighting and black walls and heavy busts plastered in the windows. She’d snag you by the sleeve and point, just to watch how you scoff and look away.

Yuuji pointedly ignores those stores. He ignores everything in relation to them.

You’d picked this shirt just for tonight. It dips low into your cleavage, just tight enough to still push up the tender meat of your breasts. Not to mention the color - deep crimson, Yuuji’s favorite. Well, at least the closest you’ll ever get to a favorite color with his indecisive nature.

Yuuji sits across from you at the scratched table. When his eyes aren’t scavenging the conveyor belt for small, shiny, colored plates serving anything that may catch his eye, they’re on your face. And only your face.

Normally something you’d absolutely cheer over - if this were a first date, but the fact is that this is one of many dates. And after so many dates that you can’t count anymore, you’re starting to want Yuuji’s eyes to drift.

You want him to look and you want to watch him sweat and go red. You’re starting to need it.

The need only grows more apparent mere days later.

Yuuji keeps his hands stubbornly on your hips, barely making an imprint from outside your clothes. But you choose not to make a fuss since he’s otherwise fully engrossed with keeping his lips pasted to yours. Your hands are sweaty and hot on Yuuji’s cheeks, you just know they are, but he doesn’t seem to mind when he lets you hold him close and grind on him.

Yet his palms are stiff against you. They don’t feel warm or cold or clammy or moist. They just… are. He chokes back every groan and huff and you almost feel embarrassed to be letting out hitches and breathy moans so freely in comparison.

Puffing your chest out, you can feel your breasts pillowing against Yuuji and you’re hoping to tempt him to move his hands up. Under your shirt and bra with bare skin on bare skin. The idea makes you mewl, dragging your hips harder against his and further pushing out your tits for him to grope.

And suddenly, his stiff hands are picking you up off his lap, sliding you beside him on your couch. Yuuji grins, standing and swiping his hands down the legs of his sweatpants before planting a kiss on your forehead, “Sorry, gotta pee.”

“Oversharing!” you call after his retreating form.

When Yuuji returns, he sits down and rewinds the movie you two had put on earlier. He frowns and murmurs about how much the both of you missed. When you don’t turn back to the TV immediately, Yuuji smiles again and kisses your cheek.

Your gut twists unpleasantly.

And that need festers into utter desperation by just the next afternoon.

“Hey, Yuuji,” you come up from behind your boyfriend, arms dangling over the back of his couch and framing his shoulders. You place your chin on his head, staring at the intense cooking competition he’s watching, “So, I know I just got here… but! I’ve got a small, teensy errand to run.”

“Mhm?” he tilts his head back to meet your eyes, “Want me to go with you?”

His offer has you nodding, trying to smother down the bright simper he threatens to drag out of you, “Yeah, if you’re not busy.”

Sucking in air noisily through his teeth, Yuuji gestures out to the show he lazes in front of, “I dunno, babe, I am watching TV.”

“Very funny,” you back away from his couch, already heading to the door to tug your shoes on, “Just saying, you don’t have to come with if you don’t want to,” Yuuji always wants to come with, you like that about him, “Just getting some new bras.”

Your current ones are fine, but maybe a stuffy changing room is that nudge he needs.

“Oh,” your boyfriend pauses, eyes widening, “Uh. You might want to take Kugisaki for that, she’d know more than me,” he can’t even look at you, “I’m not really the kinda person you’d want around for that.”

You almost ask what he means by that, but the rejection has fried your brain to a gray, crunchy crisp. The kind of fry that looks like it could flake apart with a harsh jab. Again, that terrible, awful knotting in your stomach returns, but you carry on. Because if you claimed to no longer need this errand ran, then he might know what your scheme was - and that was far worse than whatever this hell was.

So you nod slowly and meekly call out that you love him before exiting the door. He says he loves you more.

You really wish you asked what he meant.

Finally, desperation comes to a head when you meet Yuuji’s friend - Todo, Aoi.

Todo, Aoi, who stares at you - eyes narrow as he judges each wrinkle in your clothes and jitter of your muscles - then turns to Yuuji, and asks point-blank, “Did you lie about your type, then, brother?”

Yuuji rips the hand in his pocket out and cuts it across his neck in a slicing motion, mouthing a couple of rude ‘shut up’s. You lean into Yuuji’s side, squeezing the hand he lays in yours tighter. It isn’t sweaty. And it isn’t very warm, either.

Aoi doesn’t seem very upset at the idea, “I’m happy you’re happy,” you look down at your shoes when he glances back over at you, “I was excited when I thought we had the same type.”

No, you weren’t very tall. And no, your butt wasn’t exceptionally big. You fell on the more mediocre sides of those categories, the thing you excelled in (what you thought most guys were thrilled over) was having a large bust.

“Dude!” Yuuji hits Aoi in the shoulder. Hard, “Shut up!”

He squeezes your hand so tight you think it might bruise.

“Sorry, brother,” Aoi, you were warned, was extremely unusual - little to no boundaries and almost inept at social interactions outside of fighting. He does seem sympathetic enough, turning to you, “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

It’s all so sickening. How you wish Yuuji would hurry up and show interest in shallow things. How you place personal esteem on this whole fiasco. How right Aoi is. How badly you’re letting everything affect you.

The ringing in your ears, for example. The way you no longer think you can stomach whatever Aoi was cooking tonight. The shortness of your breath.

You try to push it down. Tonight is supposed to be fun.

Yuuji shoves his friend, much more lightheartedly than his previous blow, and goes to kiss your forehead - but hesitates. His smile is uneven, “Don’t listen to him, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” he squeezes your hand, “I love you,” then, apologetically, he smooths his thumb over the sore spots where he clenched your hand, “I love you so much.”

And you know that. You know it like you know your favorite movie.

Tonight was supposed to be fun.

He loves you, you know that - what you don’t know, is if he wants you. Doesn’t he get sweaty palms like you? Doesn’t he feel his intestines tie into bunches of little knots like you? Doesn’t he get all hot in the face like you? Doesn’t he want you like you want him?

It’s humiliating to imagine that he doesn’t, and the mere idea makes you so nauseous you think you might hurl at this very moment.

Maybe your boyfriend just doesn’t find you as attractive as you want him to.

Maybe you should give up this repetitive scheme.

The car is quiet, unbearably so. Your knees are angled away from Yuuji defiantly, legs pushed to the far side of your seat so it’d be a hassle for him to reach out and hold your thigh. You used to think it meant something when he did that, but now it seems as though he’s doing it out of duty. Like holding the door for someone behind you. Or offering your seat on the bus to elderly passengers. Simple acts of simple kindness.

The most basic peacekeeping, if anything.

Yuuji peeks at you without turning away from the road, hands tightening around the steering wheel, “Are you upset?”

You could be snippy. You could even opt to not respond.

But you do neither, “Yeah.”

He sighs through his nose, “Seriously, don’t listen to Todo. He doesn’t know anything.”

Now, you’re a little snippy. To point out that Aoi’s being stupid isn’t uncalled for, but to claim he doesn’t know exactly what stupid shit he’s saying is.

“He has a point.”

“Huh?” Yuuji turns his head fully to look at you, something he only does because the quiet backroad home is empty, “What’re you talking about?”

Only flickering, crooked, rusty street lamps are witness to your impending breakdown. Your boyfriend returns his stare to the road. Crickets sing outside and the wind flattens over long grass that shines under moonlight.

“Yuuji,” sinking into your seat, you ignore his eyes, “You can’t seriously say you have no idea,” he’s quiet, lips pressed thinly, “Since we met, practically everybody has known your type. I knew you had a type! It was a shock to our friends when we got together! And now that we are…”

Pulling off into the grassy plain lining your way home, Yuuji slips the key from the ignition and unclicks his seatbelt to really examine you. His eyes scramble over you, every part the sensitive, concerned boyfriend you know and treasure. He pouts, but it’s in earnest; hurt simply because you’re hurt.

“And now that we are?”

“Why don’t you look at me?”

“I look at you!” he rubs the back of his neck, now quirking a brow at you, “I look at you all the time.”

“No,” you whine like a petulant child, hands coming up to cover your face, “It’s different!”

Aoi’s words just won’t stop creeping up your spine. Yuuji setting you aside on the couch. Yuuji insisting that you bring Nobara to a lingerie store instead of him. He was lying to someone, right? Was it to Aoi or you?

But everybody had seen that poster, and everybody could hear him declare his preferences.

“It’s way different,” you’re so humiliated you’re nauseous, your voice wobbles.

Yuuji tenderly takes your wrists, dragging down your hands. His smile is squiggly, brows high to his forehead, “Talk to me, pretty girl. You want me to look at you?” you nod, “So tell me what you mean by that.”

You almost hate how soft his voice is. It makes it so hard to be upset.

“I’m not your type,” your eyes trail the way Yuuji’s fingers dance around yours, “And every time I try to… you know, get you to think of me as something other than just cute or pretty - you turn me down. I feel like you don’t find me attractive.”

“Oh, like sexually?”

“Mhmm,” you nod glumly. When he’s quiet for just a couple of seconds too long, you ask, “Did you know what I was trying to do?”

“Kind of,” Yuuji’s cheeks are growing red, eyes now abandoning your entwined hands to stare out the windshield, “I do find you attractive - that’s a little bit of the problem.”

“What?”

He sucks in a breath sharply, engulfing your hands completely with his and squeezing (much more mindfully this time), “I’m crazy about you,” he can tell you don’t believe him, “It scares me a little,” he pulls his hands away and cradles his own over his lap, “I’m worried that if I give in, I’ll scare you off… like I’m too eager or something.”

“Yuuji!” you adjust in your seat, moving sideways and finally letting your knees face your boyfriend again, “You wouldn’t scare me off by being eager about my body! That’s a good thing, right? When we’re both into each other, that’s good!”

“No, I mean,” he’s gone rouge all the way up to his ears now, a fire bright in his chest, “I want you so bad it makes me feel like all my skin’s burning. My hands get all gross and sweaty so I have to wipe them on my pants, and- and I can’t think straight,” he’s still not looking at you, but the way he’s pressing his arms down on his crotch tells you he wants to, “Even now, I think I’m going crazy just imagining you…”

You sit up on your knees, leaning over the center console just to watch your boy squirm at the invasion of space, “Imagining me?” he nods shakily, “Imagining me how?”

He whines, turning his head and pressing his scorching face into your neck, “You know how.”

“Come on, pretty boy,” you kneel over the console entirely, squeezing behind the wheel to settle on Yuuji’s lap - slapping away his hands from the growing tent in his baggy pants, “Entertain me, please?”

“Imagining you under me, on me, between my legs,” his hands fly to your hips, palms slipping up under your shirt, and, God, his palms are sweaty, “Any way you’ll have me,” you cup his cheeks and press messy kisses to his lips. Yuuji’s hands roam further up your shirt, fingertips teasing under the cups of your bra, “Any way I can see your tits.”

“I thought you were more into ass,” your bravado falls under his admission, suddenly bashful.

Yuuji closes his eyes, swallowing hard while pushing his hands under your bra, he can feel his heartbeat all the way at the back of his throat. His rough palms cupping the soft, fleshy fat on your chest, “As if that matters,” his brows knit, hips subconsciously jerking up into yours, “I’m a horny guy: my hot girlfriend has big boobs, and I’m obsessed with her big boobs.”

“Just ‘cuz you’re horny?” you tease, grinding down on the bump of his hard cock. His loose pants let him spring up under your skirt, knocking into your panty-clad cunt.

“Nah,” his eyes flutter open, sweaty palms moving around your back and clumsily unhooking your troublesome bra. It takes him three tries, “I like every part of you all the time…” the tip of his tongue parts his lips in hard concentration, “Your whole body makes me feel like I’m full of bugs.”

“‘Full of bugs?!’” you snort, lifting your arms so Yuuji can yank off your shirt and bra in one ungraceful motion.

“In a good way,” he promises, eyes locked on your heaving chest. You can hear the thick breaths he struggles through, “‘m so nervous and horny at the same time, it feels like bugs in my stomach.”

“What’re you nervous for?”

“‘Cuz I wanna make you cum, but I’m worried I’ll cream my pants before we even get to it,” he finally looks into your eyes, he smiles at you with flaming cheeks and palms at your breasts, “It was so hard making sure I kept it together… Been jerkin’ off every night thinking of you - ask Sukuna, he’ll tell you. It’s been embarrassing.”

“Augh, Yuuji!”

“It’s true!”

It makes your palms hot and sweaty, the image of him so desperate. All for you.

“Hm,” you croon, grinding against your boyfriend’s cock, back arching to press your tits closer to his face, “Yuuji...”

Wrapping his arms around your waist, Yuuji sucks one of your nipples between his lips and laves it with his tongue. He bucks up against your wetting panties. Pulling away from your nipple with a soft pop, Yuuji stares up at you with another earnest, flustered pout, “Can you take it out for me?”

As if you could forget what he’s talking about, he humps you again.

“Please, take it out,” he cranes his neck to run his warm, wet tongue over your other, unattended nipple.

“Aw,” you didn’t think seeing your big, energetic boyfriend act so pathetic would set you on fire the way it does. One of your hands stretches down between you and Yuuji, wrangling down his pants with him lifting his hips to help, “Do you want me to play with your cock?”

He hums against your breast, nodding eagerly, “Yuh- yeah- ! Please?”

Your fingers wrap around the warm softness of Yuuji’s erection, thumb playfully nudging his mushroom tip’s slit. He throws his head back, ricocheting against the car seat headrest with a throaty groan.

Giggling, you lean in to kiss the sensitive spot just under Yuuji’s jaw, hand still working up Yuuji’s weeping cock, “Having a good time, honey?”

“Uh-huh,” he unwinds his arms around you to grasp your hips once again, fingers bruising at your sides, “Feels so good - so, so good…”

“Who’s making you feel good, Yuuji?”

“You!” his right thigh twitches under you, “You, you - ‘s always you!”

“Always me?”

His chuckle breaks off into a slack-jawed moan, “Said I jerk off to you every night, didn’t I?” he reaches for your wrist, “Wait, wait!”

“Were you…?” so soon?

“I told you!” now he’s the one whining like a petulant brat, “I don’t wanna cum before you, but you just make it so hard.”

So soon.

Your thighs squish around Yuuji’s, hips grinding on nothing - desperate in search of friction.

“You like that?” he sounds breathless, staring at you as you watch his bobbing cock. All red at the head and straining against your hand, “You’re so mean, babe.”

“I like it a lot,” you sit up, lips finding Yuuji’s drool-slicked ones, “I like knowing I have that effect on you.”

“Since I first saw you, I think,” he admits, hands skimming under your skirt now, “Can I… ?”

You nod, holding tightly to Yuuji’s shoulders while you lean on one leg. You could, theoretically, drag your panties down your lifted leg by yourself - but Yuuji stubbornly joins your hand all the way down to your ankle.

Before trying to slip inside you, Yuuji cups your hot sex. His chest tightens, middle finger shakily tracing along your soaked cunt. Tongue lolling back out of his mouth, Yuuji tucks your nipple back into his mouth when he inserts his finger in your hole. Trying to keep his mind as busy as possible so he can stop thinking about how badly he needs to bury himself inside you.

“Yuuji,” your breathing is ragged, already lowering yourself before he even pulls his finger out of you, “I’m so past ready.”

“You’re so wet,” he mumbles against the swell of your tit, teasing his teeth against the full flesh, “I dunno if I’ll be able to get in…” he chuckles to himself, lightheaded when he taps the head of his cock against your clit, “Might slip right out, huh?”

“Stop teasing,” you cradle Yuuji’s head to your chest, arms thrown around his neck, “You’re the mean one.”

“I know, I know,” he lowers in his seat, pressing himself finally, finally, finally inside your pussy. Your tits press even closer to his face when you gasp at the stretch, “I’ve been ignoring my poor pretty girl this whole time,” he says it so mournfully, so heartfelt, “So selfish, just thinking of my pride - I didn’t even wonder how my girl felt.”

“Ahh, Yuuji,” you moan, piercing your bottom lip between your teeth.

“I’m sorry, pretty girl,” he pushes down on your hips, lowering you on his stiff cock until your thighs are flush with his soft pants. They’re a little wet. You don’t care much, and you don’t think Yuuji does either right now. He screws up into you, one arm tight around your waist to pull you down into his thrusts and the other hand finding your slippery clit, “I’m so sorry, angel, can you forgive me?”

“Ah, ah, ah,” his fingers work quick circles on your nerves as he fucks you and you’re barely able to scramble together the words (let alone carry those words out in a sensible form), “Yes - ah! - yes, Yuuji!”

There’s something in the way he twists his hips this time because his cock beats into a particular spot that sends white sparks through your veins. You snap back, head hanging and forcing your bouncing tits directly in Yuuji’s face. Before you can even begin to beg, your big, energetic (and maybe a little pathetic) boyfriend is already nodding to himself.

“Right there, angel?” his fingers leave your clit to press down on where his cock batters your insides, “Is that it? Want me right here?”

“Please!” you squeal, thighs quivering and lungs fresh out of air.

“Uh-huh,” he keeps nodding, head too empty to realize he doesn’t need to anymore, “Uh-huh, anything for you… fuckin’ anything…”

When your lower half burns out, Yuuji keeps you upright - fully fucking up into you at that same spot he pushes down on your tummy. The need to cum burns every nerve in your body - it burns and burns and burns until it changes.

Something fuller and more familiar - in a more daily-life kind of way.

“Ah, Yuuji,” your hands perch on his shoulders, body bouncing with the weight of Yuuji’s hips slinging into yours, “I think- ! It feels like- !”

“Talk to me, angel,” dumbly, he looks up at you, almost snickering, “‘Entertain me.’”

“Feels like ‘m gonna pee,” you try warning him, you really do.

But something behind his eyes just shines brighter, grin widening and he actually laughs, “Yeah?”

“Yeah!”

“Fuck yeah,” he stares, wide-eyed, at where you’re creaming on his cock, “You gonna squirt on me, baby?” his foolish nodding quickens with his hips, “Squirt all over me, angel, I want it - want it so bad. Soak my car, oh,” his pretty mouth circles into an ‘O’ just at the thought, “Please, please soak my fucking car!”

Your head jerks back, nails digging into Yuuji’s shoulders, throat snapping raw as you cry out braindead mixtures of your boyfriend’s name and pleas for more and harder and his cum.

He moves the hand on your tummy to swish your clit and spread your mess as far as he can, mouth popping open almost instinctively just to catch stray droplets of your cum in his mouth. One day (tomorrow) he might regret (will definitely regret) intentionally making you spray cum all over his front, and even back, seats, but right now he couldn’t possibly imagine not doing it.

“‘m gonna cum,” he grits his teeth, moans choked back in his throat, “‘m gonna cum - where?” before he can ask again, you find the strength to swivel your hips down on him, “Inside?”

“Inside!” you sob, chest tight and eyes watering at the overstimulation of Yuuji still swirling a thumb on your clit, “Cum inside, Yuuji!”

“Fu- ck,” he squeezes the word out of his chest, seating you fully on his lap when his cock throbs. He juts his chin out towards you when he starts cumming, “Kiss me?”

And you waste no time throwing yourself forward to press chaste, sweet kisses on Yuuji’s drooling lips. He hums and whimpers into your mouth, greedily drinking in the taste of your lips on his. As if he’d been starved of it his entire life.

Yuuji keeps you against him, the both of you slowly coming back down to Earth.

His sopping pants are beginning to cool underneath you.

“Ugh,” you groan at the feeling, “I think we made a mistake.”

“Yeah…” Yuuji sighs, “Oh well. Can’t unfuck in the car now.”

You’re kind of dreading pulling off Yuuji’s soft cock - if you hadn’t done enough to ruin Yuuji’s pants before, then that most certainly will.

Yuuji sighs again, heartier, hands coddling your hips and tenderly rubbing circles into your bone. His eyes fall to your breasts and remain there, “I really am sorry, angel. I- I never, ever wanted you to feel like I didn’t want you.”

Because he does. Good, God, he always does.

Every time he sees you, his hands get all sweaty and his cheeks are hot and his stomach twists into jumbles of knots.

“It hurt,” you admit, “but it’s fine now,” you giggle at the idea of him apologizing over trying to be respectful, “It isn’t like you were being a dick, you know?”

“Yeah, but! Ugh!” he clenches a hand over his heart dramatically, frowning, “I hurt my girlfriend’s feelings. My sweet girl :( “

“You’re cute,” you kiss one of Yuuji’s fiery cheeks, “Okay, help me off.”

“Oh, yeah, huh,” he stretches over your shoulder to wring your panties back up your leg, “It’ll be unpleasant, but I think you need to wear these back to your apartment.”

“I’ll live,” you pick at the elastic to Yuuji’s pants and snap them back against his sweaty thigh, “Can’t be worse than this, pee pants.”

“Hey, it’s not pee,” he pouts once again tonight, “And be nice.”

You shake your head, leaning down to press your lips against Yuuji’s once again. Soaking in the taste like you’d been starved of it your entire life, “Never.”

[macnevercries]

Uh Oh, My Tutor is Super Sexy!

—for my baby @tteokdoroki ‘s coming this summer collab!!

prompt ♥︎!! summer sex (18+) x jock!yuuji x fem!tutor!reader

wc ♥︎!! 5k but it don’t even feel that long 🥸

♡ WARNINGS!! ♡

…college au. manhandling/strength kink (can’t have yuuji without a strength kink <\\3). pussy eating. f-fucking. slight dumbification & degradation, but also praise. mentioning of tummies and pudge. uh, misogyny? but… i try to make it sexy LMFAOOOO (just some comments yuuji makes ab how u dress)

Yuuji Itadori’s natural enemy is homework.

There’s nothing more that he hates in the world than complicated assignments, packets and online reading that take hours of his life to complete—valuable hours, might he add.

He despises it. Abhors it, even. (He learned that one from Kugisaki.)

And so, he leans into doing everything else besides his homework. Which, admittedly, is exactly how he got himself into this mess to begin with—but nevermind that, why does he have to complete this stupid summer course? All by himself, too. Alone and in agony, writhing away beneath the weight of cramped fingers and a sore back.

He should be at practice. He should be with Megumi and Kugisaki, getting smoothies and ice cream, having four-day-sleepovers until Megumi gets sick and kicks him out. He should be having fun. It’s summer. He’s officially on break, but instead of surfing with Toudo at the beach, or flirting with that cute cheerleader he’s been talking up, he’s spending his vacation cooped up in his dorm room with nothing but a six-hundred-page-text book.

“Itadori?”

Oh.

And you.

You’re here, too.

Yuuji groans in frustration, only groaning louder when you start shaking your finger at him.

“We won’t get anywhere if you don’t focus!”

“I don’t wanna do this,” he answers honestly, eyes offensively bored. “Don’t you have better things to do than waste time here with me?”

It’s hot. The window’s open, and the curtains are pushed back, and that helps. A cool breeze swings by every now and again. But it’s still hot enough that Yuuji thinks he’d be a lot more miserable if the weather didn’t warrant your God-sent mini-skirts and tiny—what’d you call them?—camisoles. Yeah, that’s it.

Every day this week, he’s opened up his dorm door to find you in some variation of tiny clothing strapped only around the parts of you that matter. And barely, at that! (Well, not matter. But the—the sensitive parts of you.)

Yuuji can’t even blame you—there’s nothing to blame you for. It’s hot; obviously you’re going to dress appropriately for that, right? Right.

It’s just… hard to focus on literary analysis free response answers when he’s got a semi brewing in his pants, y’know?

You roll your eyes at him and turn your head back to his laptop. Yuuji’s eyes take the opportunity—and every one before this—to roam down your legs, the supple smush of your thighs as they pool against the office chair his roommate loaned you for today’s study session. (Yuuji watched you flirt it right from beneath the man’s ass in amazement. You even managed to get the guy to go on a grocery run for the both of you. With his money.)

“Summer sessions are easier because they’re shorter, dummy. Less work and lower expectations. Take advantage of that.”

Yuuji pouts, determined to pack everything up and meet everyone else at the beach like they had originally planned this morning. “But isn’t it harder because we have less time to do everything?”

“Mm, it doesn’t matter now. This’s due tomorrow.”

“You’re such a teacher.” He frowns.

You quirk a brow, “Hello? That’s exactly what a tutor is, Itadori.”

Tiny clothing or not, Yuuji can’t help but appreciate how seriously you take your job. You’re always on time, and you only run-over when he asks it of you. You’re kind, a lot nicer than his actual professor. It’s easier to receive information when it comes from your mouth.

“Yuuji,” he pouts, flicking his pencil back and forth between his fingers.

“Yeah?” You turn back to him, a confused tilt pulling your head to the side.

“Call me Yuuji,” he clarifies. “Hearing you say my last name makes me feel old.”

You give an understanding ‘Ohhh,’ and then a quick little ‘Okay!’ and perk up in your chair.

There’s a slight curve in your back, Yuuji notices—from the way you’re sitting. An arch.

How far can you mimic that on your tummy, he wonders.

And then mentally slaps himself.

Pervert.

He sighs, slumping over in his chair. The heat’s getting to him.

Yuuji repeats himself, hoping it’ll stick to that wrinkly brain of yours, “I really don’t wanna do this right now. And it’s useless to try when I’m so unfocused.”

Despite the way you seem, you’re not a complete nerd. You’re wild when it counts! Even.. sorta reckless—and that’s rich coming from someone like Itadori Yuuji.

But Yuuji’s seen you before, at a few of his games. And at all of the after-parties, knocking back solo cups like you’d been getting paid to do it. He’s even had to bring you home before, by request of Maki—who apparently also knows you well.

Which, coincidentally, is why you’re here tutoring and co-working this summer class project with him, free of your usual tutoring charge. Lucky him, right?

You turn your head to him and lean forward to rest your arms over the computer table. And against your arms is your chest, bouncing and jiggling and begging for attention. Your tummy folds a little, too, and you just look so soft. All over. It’s almost like you’re taunting him, antagonizing him, purposefully. His eyes fly back to your face, quickly enough to avoid getting caught ogling.

“Well,” you start, clicking your nails over the desk. It’s then Yuuji notices your fingernails are pink, like his hair. “You can’t go to the beach—that’d take too long. Let’s just take a break?”

“Uh,” he swallows, physically cringing at how cracked and dry his voice sounds. “Yeah. I need—I need a break.”

“Do you need some water, too?” You look awfully amused, that cute little quirk in your brow comes out to play when you’re trying to be mean, along with a playful glimmer in your eyes.

Yuuji’s mouth dips into another frown. “You’re so funny,” he aims at you, tone rather flat. Then, the man stands from his chair to tower over you at full height, and pointedly side steps your chair. “Actually, I will get a water. A cold one. And I’m not bringing you back one, either.”

“Wait!” You push back from the table to get in his way, spinning to catch his shirt. “Wait! Don’t be stingy, Yuu, get me one!”

Except you very much get in his way. You’re far too deep in his way. And send him crashing to the ground.

The legs of your chair are longer than you think they are, catching Yuuji’s ankles and absolutely snatching them from beneath his frame—and taking his entire soul with them, too! Yuuji, as huge as he is, trips with an almost embarrassingly girlish squeal, and tumbles to his knees with a harsh slam! onto the floor. With a horrifying crack, his chin slams onto the seat of your chair, somehow—by some stroke of dumb, unimaginable luck—settling his face between your knees.

All Yuuji can think, disdainfully, is that you’re lucky he’d been far enough away, or he’d have taken you down with him.

Your legs jump apart as Yuuji’s head comes banging onto the seat of your chair. Yuu thinks he can hear you panicking—or are you laughing? He can’t tell. He feels your hands flock to cradle and gently pet at his face. Tweety birds skip around his vision as the world slowly begins to stop spinning.

“Yuuji,” your voice calls to him. “Yuuji, Yuuji! Are you okay? Do you need an ice pack?”

Tweety bird. He blinks.

Yeah… She’s staring right at him, actually. There’s… a bunch of her. A grip of yellow cartoon birds fluttering across your navel. All of them are grinning at him and—oddly enough—making him feel right at home, smushed between your thighs.

Heaven, Yuuji thinks, he’s found it.

He feels you shift impatiently and unclenches his fingers from the sides of your chair to pull back.

“You wear tweety bird panties?” Yuuji gripes from the floor. His eyes flicker up to bore into yours, an unimpressed gleam washing over his face—unimpressed besides the haunting, hot pangs of pure want shooting up his stomach. Is his mouth watering? “You dress like this, and the flavor of underwear is tweety bird?”

You go to kick him away, but Yuuj’s reflexes are sharp. He catches your ankle firmly, but shuffles away in fear of his own safety; a soft, slightly vengeful sob—“You’ve hurt me enough.”—cracking from his chest.

“Don’t look up my skirt!” You seethe, all compassion for him flying out the window. You try to yank your foot back, but Yuuji won’t let it go until he’s out of kicking range. “And what does that mean? What the hell do you think I dress like?”

Once far enough, Yuuji releases your foot and tilts his head up to gaze at you. He’s shifted around to sit on his ass now, not quite ready to pull himself back up to his chair.

“You dress…,” he starts, nervously rubbing at the back of his head. His gaze slowly shifts away from you, but you stomp a foot to startle his attention back up.

How should he answer this? Is there a way to answer without upsetting you? What if you storm off? What if you storm off and tell Maki? She and Kugisaki would… Gold eyes find their way pulled back to thick thighs, poorly hidden beneath that flimsy skirt you’ve got pulled up over your tummy.

They would castrate him.

“You dress like you’re trying to get fucked.” Yuuji admits, painfully blunt.

Your eyes bulge out of their sockets, jaw dropping to the floor at Yuuji’s audacity.

“What!” The pitch of your voice elevates in—in surprise, surely not because you’ve been caught red-handed. “I do—I do not,” you scoff, crossing your arms under your chest, across your midriff.

“C’mon!” Yuuji whines, shaking his arms at you to demonstrate. He scrubs a hand over his jaw, “You’ve even got the—got the tummy out and everything!” He gestures to your tank top, where it stops just above your belly button.

The tummy? Your tummy?

“So having my tummy out means I wanna get fucked?”

“You can’t just show up at my house looking like this. It’s—dangerous. For my well-being.”

“I don’t—I don’t—,” you sputter. Then, lowly, slow and careful, almost like you’re scared of the answer—correction: you’re terrified—you ask, looking everywhere but at Yuuji. “…Do—do you?”

Yuuji licks his lips, allowing his eyes to roam over you thoroughly. “For months now.”

You scowl, clearly missing the way his eyes darken. “Don’t play with me.”

“Would never,” Yuuji promises, shaking his head. “I mean it. I mean it—you’re so fucking cute. I try to be a gentleman. I do. But—but tweety bird? I wanna rip em off you, I’m sorry—,”

“Yuuji,” you beckon him forward to scratch anxiously at his shoulders. He doesn’t miss the way your thighs rub together. “Don’t say things like that,” you pout, but only seem to be pressing yourself closer. “We’ve gotta—the thingy. The—work. Your project.”

“What about it?” He coos, more to your thighs than to you. His big, rough hands ghost up your legs, then your tummy to settle over your waist. He brushes his face along your skin, making his way up with deep, appreciative moans under long kisses that vibrate up your body.

You don’t even answer, too busy shuddering. His kisses follow his hands, a line curving up your tummy to stop in the middle valley of your chest.

“Look at these girls,” Yuuji moans, weighing your tits in each of his hands. He has half a mind to suck them. “Can’t believe you’ve been teasin’ me with these for months.”

“I wasn’t… huff… teasing you!” You whine, so sweetly, at that. And Yuuji’s hooked. You’re just too adorable when you’re trying to fight him on things Yuuji already knows. So cute when you clamp your thick, smushy thighs around his waist the best you can when he’s kneeled in front of your chair like this.

You scratch his scalp and pout, “‘n you’re not listening to me.”

“Mhm,” Yuuji hums; his brown eyes flicker up to your face, “Can I suck your tits?”

Yuuji’s so… vulgar. He just says what he wants, when he wants. It’s humiliating. Your cheeks burn at the suggestion; your entire body feels like it’s burning from the inside.

“Do you… want to?” You can’t help it. Even with his hickeys painted up your legs, flinches of insecurity soften you. “Yuuji, if you’re joking with me, I swear I’ll tell Maki—,”

“No!” Yuuji’s gold eyes shoot open. Blasphemy, he thinks. He couldn’t—well, he wants to play with you, but not in the way you’re thinking. “No, who—,” he reach a hand up to cup your face, brushes his thumb over the corner of your mouth.

“I know it’s soon,” he admits, collecting one of your hands and pressing it to his mouth. “But I’m—I really am a trustworthy guy! And you’re pretty. Out-of-my-league pretty. Didn’t think you’d waste time on me,”

Yuuji’s lips brush over your breasts from atop your camisole’s neckline. It’s easy enough to do, with how fucking deep it is. You couldn’t have been serious, showing up to his dorm dressed like this. Either you’ve been hoping this would happen, or you’re just fucking stupid—and Yuuji doesn’t feel mean for saying it.

The college athlete sweet-talks his way into pulling your nipple in his mouth through your shirt—no bra. Fuck, you’re not even wearing a bra?

“Not leavin’ you alone after this,” and that is a guarantee, slightly muffled by your breast filling his mouth. He gently nips, brings his teeth to tug at your nipple through the fabric of your shirt and you freak. This loud, unbelievably cute squeal unwillingly escapes you. Your body jumps closer to smush his face into your breasts.

Yuuji, the big sap, is irrevocably in love. A new surge of desperation to feel you cling to him in other ways, to hear you call his name like that again.

“Yuuji.” He can tell you’re trying to use your chastising, teacher voice. It’s fucking hot. As a reward, he pulls your shirt up over your chest and presses your tits together to see if he can suck both of your nipples at the same time. He can. Your breasts are set free with a comical bong, tantalizingly bouncing before Yuuji gets his mouth on them.

You continue, trying to reclaim some semblance of authority.

“You, ah—,” sharp canines pinch your nipples. Your fingers curl into the sleeve of his shirt over his shoulder, “better make it—hiccup—make it quick—hhh.”

Yuuji pulls off your nipple with a wet pop. When he tugs your shirt back down over your chest, his sucking leaves the pink cotton of your shirt damp. Right where his mouth had been, attached to your spit-slicked nipples. They poke out through the material, too—Yuuji’s been saying hello to the both of them all week. And your tummy; the cutest bulge hidden beneath your skirt, but your rolls have been making his jaw tick since you sat down. He can bite them, right? Will they taste like cinnamon?

“Stop ogling me and get up!” A surprise attack! You crush the palms of your hands into Yuuji’s forehead and knock his head back.

“Ack!” Yuuji’s whole upper body jerks backward to escape you. “Are you trying to crush my eyeballs?”

He huffs in relief when you immediately retreat into your chair. Then, he pouts at you, slumped in fear of what you’ll do to him next. But just as quickly, he gets over it.

“You’re so impatient.” A grin tugs at his mouth. “Unhinged. I can’t look at you anymore?”

You yank his hair, hard. “No, I don’t want some stupid, jock-pervert looking at me!”

To your pleasant surprise, Yuuji gives in almost instantly. “Alright, alright! No need to get mean. I hear you.”

He throws your legs over his shoulders and lifts up. You hunch forward, gasping in fear and surprise as he manages to prop himself up on one knee, then both of his ankles. All while scooping you from the rolling chair to his study desk, and narrowly missing his laptop as he dumps you onto the table.

“You’re—strong,” you sigh admiringly. You’re not stupid. You know Yuuji’s a big guy, slender at the waist but his arms… They might be larger than your head. And yes, you know he’s an athlete. He trains by lifting things. But still—

Still, it shoots a thrill through you.

“Huh?” His fingers dig into the fat of your thighs and spread them apart. He pulls you the edge of the table until he can comfortably stick his head under your skirt, and reach your pussy while at it. He trails his mouth over your skin to bite at your thighs, mumbling something dark about wanting to get his mouth on these things forever.

“You like bein’ tossed around?” He asks, as if he doesn’t already know the answer. It comes a bit distracted, as Yuuji’s attention is already caught up in getting your cunt in his greedy mouth.

“Sorry,” he sighs, not a drop of remorse in his heart for poor Tweety Bird as he tears your underwear right down the middle. Yuuji releases the breath he’s been holding at the sight of your bare pussy. What a view. “I can get you more, okay? Don’t be mad at me.”

“You can’t just go around ripping girls’ panties off!” But your scolding falls on deaf ears. It’s not about you anymore, you fear, but the little junction of muscle between your hips.

“M’a pervert, remember,” he grins. His breath flutters over your pussy lips. “No, you’re right. I should’ve kept ‘em, instead. So stupid.”

It throbs, your little cunt, from all this attention lathered onto it. You’re about to whimper for Yuuji to do something, to stop staring—because it’s exciting you miserably—but then he’s moving on his own accord, leaning in to smother his face in your juices.

Yuuji eats pussy the way he plays ball.

Like he’s hungry.

He rarely comes up for air, fitting his mouth over your cunt and sucking hard on your clit until your legs are trembling over his shoulders. His hands are rough, digging and pinching into your skin wherever they travel—your knees, your calves, your tummy. Yuuji jerks your whole body forward, splitting your walls open on his warm, wet tongue. Your pussy drools back, too, slathering his mouth in slick and sweat.

“Fuuuck,” Yuuji moans around the taste of you. Your scent robs his brain of any cells left inside of it. He’s pushing his face closer, desperately flicking his tongue over your lips to lap up everything your pussy so graciously gives him. “Everytime—slurrrrp—you come over here, this’s all I wanna do.”

Your fingers surf through his hair, anxiously pulling at the pink strands. Yuuji feels you pulling him closer and trying to escape him all at once. You’re overwhelmed, desperately grinding against his face and trying to clamp your thighs around his head at the same time. Maybe gettin’ eaten is too much for your princess cunt, he thinks. But that makes Yuuji want to fuck you on his tongue even more.

He changes his pace. Instead of sucking and smacking like a man starved, he slowly builds up a rhythm. His fingers pull up to dig circles into your clit, rolls it ‘round and ‘round under his fingertips, and your pussy thanks him for it. It’s all messy, your cunt gushing slick all down Yuuji’s chin, but your orgasm comes even messier.

Your body tenses beneath his hands and your hips grind hard over his face. The feel of your cunt, already soft and gooey and hot, cumming right into Yuuji’s mouth—exactly the way he’s been pining after for weeks—makes his cock ache. He’s so stupidly hard, it fucking hurts. Yuuji drags the heel of his palm up the bulge in his jeans. The friction is good, so good. Dangerously good. He has to yank his hand away and pinch it back under your thigh before he humiliates himself.

A tight, hot pressure pulls in your gut, so vast and mean. His tongue bullies your cum into his mouth, even as the sharp throbbing at the tip of his cock almost tricks him into feeling like he’s cumming, too.

“Yuu,” you gasp, but he can’t hear well from between your thighs like this. “Please, please, hhh. I’m—sniffle—Yuuji,”

The last bits of your pride are set ablaze. A loud sob escapes your chest as you cum, hard and messy, and just for Yuuji. It leaves you breathless and shaking; your body trembles in Yuuji’s hands even after he frees your clit from his teeth.

You blink down at him, your eyelashes wet and clumped while your hand absentmindedly rubs over the back of his neck. He kneels between your legs still, chest panting and mouth open. If he had a tail, it’d be wagging.

“You okay?” You ask, still taking big breaths. “Oh, you have—here.” Your thumb comes down to wipe at the corner of his mouth. When he gets to his feet, both of your hands reach to cup his face, trying to clean his mouth without smearing your slick all over his face. “I don’t have a napkin,” you mumble, looking almost dejected that you can’t clean him up properly.

“Shut up,” Yuuji groans. His head falls back, eyes pinching shut in what you think is annoyance. “Why do you have to be so fucking—c’mere.”

He pulls you off the table, despite your surprised cry, and flips you around to bend you over it.

“Wait!” You crane your head to look back over your shoulder as Yuuji stands behind you, crowding you into the table. Already, your knees knock together, too numb to keep you upright. The clings of his belt unbuckling rattle in your ears. It’s effortless, but the unspoken promise of what’s to come makes you shiver.

“I’ll fall, my legs aren’t—,” your mouth dips. “Yuu, m’gonna fall.”

Yuuji flips your skirt up over your ass.

“No, you won’t.” That’s why he’s bending you over the table, genius—for a tutor, you sure are a little dumb. And even if you did somehow manage to slip, Yuuji would catch you.

“And if you do,” he adds nonchalantly, “then we can just fuck on the floor.”

“What!” You start to twist around, but Yuuji isn’t having it. He places a hand on the edge of the table nearest to the wall and hunches over your bent body. The other wraps around the base of his cock. He hisses at the feel of finally touching it, after denying himself for so long.

“F-fuck,” he stutters. “Baby, here it comes.”

You think Yuuji might go easy on you. The way he fiddles the head against your opening almost makes you giggle, fools you into think he’ll give you his dick inch by inch. You already have a quip on the edge of your tongue, ready to dig in—something like Can’t get it in? or Is that it? But when your mouth opens, all that comes out of it is a gasp.

Yuuji slams his hips forward. In one, sharp thrust, your cunt’s split open and quivering on a whole cock.

“Shit.” “Fffuck!”

Both of you claw at each other, your nails scratching at his abdomen and his fingers digging into your hip. Yuuji’s hips meet yours with unforgiving haste. Pat-pat-pat—it fills your ears, bounces around the room, even, as you dig your hand a little harder into his abdomen.

“W-wait,” you squeal, leaning up on your tippy toes.

Yuuji reaches over your head and grips the edge of the table. He uses it to follow you forward, fucking his hips after your pussy, and bottoming out inside your hot, clenching cunt the way he’s been dreaming to for weeks.

“Shit,” he repeats, throaty and low, and you’re sure he’s out of it.

It feels heavy. Hot and hard and like it’s taking up too much space inside of you. You’re dropping all over him—you know he can feel it. Hot juices pouring down to his balls, just to return to your skin when his sac slaps against the backs of your thighs, occasionally getting a good one in on your cunt—and that sends you squealing.

Yuuji moans into the air above your neck. A firm grip on the table helps him fuck you the way you deserve, so deep you feel it in your stomach. Your insides feel hotter than before, silkier and deeper and Yuuji hopes you’ll forgive him for being a little mean about this.

Slap. Slap. Slap.

“So good,” his voice sounds clipped, tight and hard. It makes your pussy flutter. “Could—could live here, wanna be in this pussy forever. Can I? You’ll let me, right?”

“Yuuji,” you sob, nails scratching helplessly against the desk, “m’cumming, m’cumming!” Your body burns hot—it’s rushing so quick, but you can’t help how sensitive your little pussy is. Yuuji’s cock rubs every inch of your walls, helps itself to your cervix, gently knocking into it on every thrust in and pulls back harshly against the suction of your cunt every pull out. Your hips push out to fuck him back, to suck him in as deeply as you can. Your cum gushes against his pelvis and coats his cock—and Yuuji fucks you through it mercilessly.

Harsh, deep thrusts plunge his fat cock in and out of your pussy, even as your cunt spasms and drips down the inside of your thighs. Yuuji holds onto the table and uses it as leverage to drag his hips forward. Your legs are knocked apart, your little skirt flipped up over your ass, he’s as deep as he can get—but more. More, more, more—Yuuji’s reverted back to the primal ages, fucking you hard enough to make your whole body jiggle.

“Yeah?” His fat cock is throbbing, hard and fast and—fuck, he’s gonna cream your cunt if he doesn’t pull out. “Me too, I think.”

“In—inside,” you gasp, trying your best to articulate with your cheek smushed into the smooth wood of the desk. Your toes curl at the prospect of being used and filled with Yuuji’s cum. “Yuuji, s’safe—inside me…!”

A sharp hiss tumbles from his mouth from how hard your muscles clamp down over his dick. It feels like you’re swallowing him, like you want to keep him inside of you and never let him go. Yuuji’s eyes roll up into his skull. The veins in his arms become more prominent as he clenches the table harder.

He only pulls out when he’s sure you’ve finished cumming. A vulgar, wet popping sound follows his cock, before his hands slide from your hips to your grip thighs. He lifts you just a little. You squeak in surprise as he bunches your thighs together and yanks your hips up. The transition is seamless: from fucking your pussy to dragging his cock along the outer part of it, to fucking it between the top of your inner thighs.

“So fucking soft,” he groans, hashed out through clenched teeth and between deep strokes to your thighs. His head falls back, then tilts down to watch the thickness of his cock vanish and reappear. He hears you answer him with a flurry of babbles, short strings of his name punctuated by every harsh thrust and slap his hips meet your ass with.

“Ohh fuck!” He drags you back, hunches over you and sounds like he’s in pain with the flames of his orgasm licking at his balls. “I gotta cum, princess. I gotta cum. Gonna take it for me? Huh?”

“Uh huh,” you reach a hand back for one of his forearms, to squeeze it gently. “Can I have—have it? Please—oh, oh—,”

“Christ.” The tension in his stomach snaps. Yuuji’s cum bursts from the slit at the top of his dick, and he floods the inner part of your thigh with it while thanking every god he knows for this sticky, sweaty weather.

“Good girl,” he shudders as your body trembles beneath him, moaning when your pussy cums again with the thick, rough fingers on your clit rubbing so relentlessly.

It just couldn’t be a good summer without your mini-skirts and tank tops.

As the spend drips down your skin, Yuuji can tell you’re disappointed. Your pretty face scrunches up into a pout, but he elects to ignore it while dumping his load between your thighs. He hunches over your body, desperately humping your pussy lips and spurting out his long strings of cum until his balls are empty. Until the drags of his hips begin to burn with over sensitivity.

“Took it like a fucking champ,” he pants proudly, gently placing your feet back to the ground. He backs up off if you a bit, but only to admire your ass in all its glory—glistening with a flecks of misplaced cum.

“I told you to cum insiiide,” you twist around to give Yuuji’s broad chest a quick tap with your little fist after he’s pulled off of you.

“Hey, easy,” Yuuji shushes you with a soft slap to the side of your thigh, then slings an arm around your waist to placate you. You’re squirming too much, and he needs to wipe up the cum splattered across the inner part of your thighs. He swipes a few baby wipes up your puffy, bruised skin, all plucked from the container at the corner of his work desk.

His eyebrows dip in concentration before he’s muttering, “Don’t be a brat. Say thank you.”

You curl your hand around to catch his arm, giving it a soft squeeze. His cock flaps between his thighs as he moves, and even as it softens, it still feels thick on you.

He doesn’t expect you to indulge him, which is why you think he groans so loud when you do say, “Thank you, Yuuji.”

Yuuji plants a quick kiss on the back of your thigh, then another over the curve of your ass, and another at the curve of your spine. It tickles.

He smiles, wide and goofy and the glisten of his fangs catch your eye. “Atta girl!”

You frown, eyebrows dipping. “But—,”

“Next time, angel.” Yuuji assures you, leaning back down to pat you dry with a Kleenex. “Promise you’ll get all’a it.”

Next time.

“Oh,” you blink, stupidly nodding along—not even questioning it. “Okay. Next time.” And even though you can’t see him, Yuuji absentmindedly nods with you.

Really, he’s silently wondering if the two of you have enough time to nap and finish the project later—or if he should wrap his homework up now, so the two of you can nap in peace. He flips your skirt back down, eases you up from the table, and spins you around to admire his handy work. A freshly fucked out you, shining with sweat and smelling like a mixture of Yuuji’s cologne and your perfume. He likes this look.

“Pull your pants up,” you poke his chest from over his shirt. “We have work to do.”

Yuuji frowns, content with gazing at you for a while more. “M’gonna put some shorts on. S’too hot for jeans.”

“So hurry up. Your roommate might come back.”

“I’m going!” He shakes his fist at you. “You can’t be mean to me when I just made you cum, y’know! Twice. Isn’t that against the rules?”

Your response is swift, “You’ll never get to do it again.”

“Sorry,” he laughs humorlessly, apologetically. “Sorry, I take it back. I didn’t mean that. Be as mean as you want. Honestly, it’s kinda hot—,”

“Itadori?” A voice coming from the opposite end of the door startles the both of you. Yuuji jumps fifty feet off the ground, his little cock flopping with him.

“Itadori!” A series of knocks rattle in the air, “Can you unlock the door? I left my key!”

You’ve never seen a man fumble into a pair of shorts so quickly in your life.

[macnevercries]

Hot ticket items 2/4

[macnevercries]

🎐🗓️🎏First meeting

(Inspired by “Something (just like this)” by OfMermaids on AO3,,, AAAA SUCH A GOOD FIC,,, it has overtaken my whole life on the times I’ve read it 😭💖I could write a whole love letter to the fic cause it’s just so beautifully written, and it feels like every paragraph has a purpose, sometimes the purpose being trying to show you the little things 🥺💖 and the plot omg the plot,,,, SOOOO well thought out!! I deffo recommend it if u like self insert 🥺

[macnevercries]

pro hero deku constantly hypes his friends’ brands bc he loves them :’) 

candid photos of when he’s out in civilian clothes show that there’s always at least 1 hero merch item on his body… blogs will religiously catalog his collection

[macnevercries]

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

[macnevercries]

CERTIFIED SERO ENTHUSIAST

[macnevercries]

❝ THINGS THEY DO THAT GIVE YOU BUTTERFLIES ! ❞ ╰┈➤ MHA EDITION (PART 2!)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ a/n: y’all wanted a part two i shall give a part two

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ includes: katsuki bakugou, hitoshi shinsou, shoto todoroki, denki kaminari, iida tenya, kirishima eijirou

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ warnings: black!reader obv, cursing, mentions of drug usage/marijuana, suggestive if u squint, fem reader implied, mentioning of babies/children

BAKUGOU KATSUKI

✮ wipes your tears sort of aggressively but only because he’s so urgent to comfort you and take care of you

✮ always hugs you by your lower waist

✮ when you go to the gym together, he’s the type to always say “c’mon, you can do one more.” or “do three more”

✮ ruffles your hair/flicks your forehead in a teasing way

✮ “act right.”/“watch out.”

✮ doesn’t remind you to drink water— he simply justs brings water bottles up to your mouth and tells you to “open up”

✮ if you have any, he cares for your pets like they’re his own

✮ just something about the sight of him holding a baby

✮ bites you just because he can

✮ pulls you into his lap whenever he’s tired of your attitude

✮ gets super close to your face like he’s gonna kiss you but pulls away just to mess with you

✮ “that’s my girl” in the most proud voice ever every single time

TODOROKI SHOTO

✮ any time he does get high he’s all over you and staring at you with half lidded eyes

✮ it’s just something about the way he curses man.

✮ loves falling asleep on the phone with you and takes facetime photos of you sleeping because he thinks you look like an angel

✮ runs his thumb over your hand whenever you hold hands

✮ loves giving earlobe kisses

✮ will casually be like “when we have kids,”

✮ sends voice memos ranging from something funny that happened in class to how much he misses you and needs to see you

✮ kisses your lip gloss off every chance he gets right after complimenting how nice your lip combo looks

✮ sends you pictures of yourself and says “you look so pretty in this”

✮ him whispering in your ear.

✮ has your contact as the only one pinned in his messages

KIRISHIMA EIJIROU

✮ pats away your tears with his finger instead of wiping them (those who watch love island usa and are kordell + serena fans know what i’m talking about)

✮ places his hand on the small of your waist to guide your somewhere or move you out the way

✮ constant forehead kisses

✮ lifts you up and spins you around when he’s excited to hug you

✮ guides you into the right form when you workout together

✮ runs his hands down your waist and hips when he’s checking you out while you’re right in front of him

✮ him around kids. that’s all.

✮ gives you flowers pretty much every week— and one time he gave you a money bouquet for your birthday

✮ flexes for you when he feels you staring at him and pretends he’s not doing it on purpose

✮ throws his arm around you and presses you flush against his chest when you go to sit on the couch next to him

✮ refers to you as his “wife” to his friends

KAMINARI DENKI

✮ you could have been rotting in bed all day and when he facetimes you he always greets you with something along the lines of “hello my beautiful princess” with a lovesick tone of voice

✮ calls you “mama” and “ma”

✮ obsessed with skinship because he aches to be able to “crawl inside your skin” and just needs to be close to you

✮ blows kisses at you from across the room

✮ for comfort, he runs his fingers through your hair and rocks you back and forth while hugging you

✮ his morning voice :)))

✮ lets you bite him and encourages it

✮ gets very touchy when you’re on his lap

✮ the king of “i know you’re probably asleep, but” texts

✮ goes on rants about how gentle and how well he would care for you when you’re one day pregnant with his children

✮ always calling you his “pretty baby”/“pretty girl”

✮ always posts pretty candid pictures of you and makes heartfelt story posts for every birthday, anniversary, and valentine’s day

HITOSHI SHINSOU

✮ has read for you + sung you to sleep on multiple occasions

✮ grabs you by your chin to force eye contact

✮ “say please”

✮ checks you every time you have an attitude with a smirk on his face

✮ has a habit of biting his lip

✮ says “there you go, babe” way too much.

✮ glares at anyone who flirts with you while tightly wrapping an arm around your waist

✮ has made multiple shared playlists for the both of you

✮ says he’s “gatekeeping” you because you’re just too pretty and he has to keep you to himself

✮ plays with your fingers when he’s bored or nervous

✮ buries his face into your neck to bask in your scent when he hugs you

✮ randomly stares at your for a full five minutes when you’re talking, barely listening to a word you’re saying, then lovingly sighs “i love you so much…”

IIDA TENYA

✮ always opens every door for you

✮ holds your hands while walking across the street or through the hallways

✮ very protective over you and will respectfully cuss anybody out who disrespects you

✮ pretty much has replaced your name is his vocabulary with “honey” and “sweetheart”

✮ never calls you hot— he always calls you beautiful, pretty, gorgeous, or stunning

✮ grabs you by your sleeve or your belt loop to take you somewhere if you don’t hear him call your name the third time

✮ the thought of ever calling you his “bitch” disgusts him, he calls you his lady or his love instead

✮ will immediately grab the nearest box of tissues to wipe your tears or your nose whenever you’re crying

✮ kisses your cheek to greet you and say goodbye

✮ has deep conversations about your future together when you get to that point in the relationship, and is open about how much his hard swells at imagining you as a mother

✮ kisses your forehead when he notices you asleep on his chest

© rumisgf

[macnevercries]

akaashi keiji: you can hear it in the silence

blurb keiji is hiding something from you. only when you get the courage to unearth it will you get more than what you anticipated.

a/n there were a lot of comments saying they wanted more of childhood!friend akaashi so i come here to serve! based off of a ts song. also im not sure abt the ending lolol

# wc, angst to fluff, mutual pining, but ofc neither knows about the mutual part, childhood friends to lovers, late night slow dancing awh, confessions

you wake up to noises. most, muffled and distant on one ear with your other is pressed against a lap; some, slow and near, like akaashi’s breathing and soft humming he doesn’t seem conscious of doing.

“hah?” comes someone’s voice. you recognize it, but in the dregs of exhaustion, you can’t pin a name to it. “this again? are you a pillow now or something?”

“i don’t mind,” akaashi says, and his grip on your hair tenses a little like it’s a lie, “we do this all the time.”

your brows knit together subtly.

the voice -- kuroo, you now identify -- hums thoughtfully. “yeah, i know that. but don’t let y/n… step all over you or something just because you’re used to it. you’re a smart guy, ‘kaashi.”

akaashi doesn’t reply this time, even when you were so sure that he would ask kuroo by what he means. keiji knows what he’s talking about. this unsettles you more than you’d like to admit.

you didn’t realize you were gripping his jacket tightly until his fingers resumed playing with your hair, soothing your nerves with just a touch. this makes you wonder, does he know you’re awake? or is it just a subconscious instinct to comfort you?

“well? are you gonna do it or not?”

do what?

akaashi lightly scratches your head. you’re probably purring, who knows. “i’ll see you around, kuroo.”

kuroo sighs. “see ya, man. kenma says bye.”

akaashi hums again. 

you wake up and pretend as if you weren’t aware the entire time. if akaashi noticed, he doesn’t call you out on it. so you talk; you talk about how yukie and kaori will treat you to ice cream later and if he wants to come. about how they want to watch a romance movie with you tomorrow and they spoiled you about a slow dance scene. about how you’d like to hang out with him some more.

but he doesn’t speak again the entire night, sharp eyes far away from where he actually is.

akaashi is hiding something from you.

you should’ve known earlier, given how you pride yourself in knowing akaashi better than anyone else, but somehow you’ve missed this one.

ever since that practice match with nekoma -- ever since kuroo entered the room, and said words that made bells ring in the back of your head -- you’ve been noticing signs from akaashi that proved your theory that akaashi is avoiding you.

it’s a subtle shift. akaashi is certainly slippery when he wants to be. but for someone who has been best friends with him since you were plucked out of the womb, you noticed.

when you invite him to your house, he declines, always saying that he’s too tired but maybe he could next time (which would be fine, if his next time didn’t involve repeating the same words; it would be understandable if he didn’t sneak out to practice -- so aggressively, almost angrily -- when he thought you left the school).

when you talk to him -- this one is a tricky one -- he’s quiet. he usually is comfortable with letting others lead the conversation, but this is a tense silence. the kind of quiet that means he’s thinking hard and worrying about something. sometimes, some days are like that. you just don’t understand what’s so different about this one that has him hiding it from you.

it frustrated you. but you love him too much to risk making him uncomfortable for pushing.

but your heart breaks when you realized he's pushing you away.

you decided to give him space. you didn’t talk to him in the same way he didn’t instigate a conversation. you didn’t go to him in the same way he didn’t look for you the way he usually does. it’s been a week since you two last talked.

whoever came up with the quote fondness makes the heart grow stronger knew their shit.

“a fight?” ren, a classmate who you’ve only spoken to about three times, ponders aloud. he’s staring at you. “are the high school sweethearts fighting?”

“what? which high school sweetheart? where?” you whip your head around, disappointed to see everyone chatting peacefully. no high school sweethearts drama here, no sir.

“you and akaashi.”

“what?” you cough as an excuse to cover your face. “w-we’re not like that.”

“really?” ren looks genuinely surprised. “oh, my bad. sorry for assuming.”

“no harm done,” you smile, pointedly looking back at your notebook.

ren doesn’t get the hint. “say, l/n. i overheard the girls talking about this horror movie. do you like horror movies?” you haven’t given it much thought before. you usually didn’t mind any movie so long as you had akaashi’s blank-faced commentary and criticism that never fails to entertain you. the memory makes your expression sour.

“ren-kun,” you start, cutting off his pitch about how he had bought two tickets for him and his brother but blah blah blah this and that.

“y-yes?” ren looks hopeful.

“am i a bad friend?”

“...what?” ren blinks once, then twice. “uhm. i wouldn’t know, not exactly. but you seem sweet. and nice. i don’t see why you would be.” at your silence, ren shifts awkwardly foot to foot. “do you think you’re a bad friend?”

“i don’t know,” you murmur. “maybe he does.”

“who?”

“akaashi.”

ren looks contemplative, then sighs. “do you want to take your mind off of it?”

your eyes skim over the imprinted words on the book. you’ve been on the same sentence for the past few minutes, and never have any word registered on your mind. you don’t notice the door sliding open and someone entering. “and how do you suppose i do that?” you ask him, only a little absentmindedly.

“listen, l/n. to be straightforward with you, i really want to take you to this movie,” ren says. the boldness is almost charming. if only he was your type (and if only your brain would be caught dead if you were to think about anyone else). “it doesn’t have to be a date, but if you give me a chance it could be.”

you stare at him, dumbfounded. “uhm.”

you don’t want to go. someone wise once said (yukie-san) that horror movies were a cheap trick to get their date to hang onto their knight in shining armor because they are scared or whatever the boys wrote in playboy 101. honestly, all things considered (and you really don’t want to consider it), you’d rather not do any of that. it’s kinda lame.

you don’t have to answer when your eyes widen at the new figure coming up from behind ren.

“sorry, yamamura-san, but i already have plans with… l/n-san,” akaashi says, steely-eyed as if daring ren to doubt him.

“oh?” ren glances back and forth between the two of you. he holds akaashi’s gaze, and it’s almost a sneer. “hm, sure, okay. offer’s still up, though, okay?” but he walks away, tail between his legs at the surprising hostility radiating off of akaashi.

akaashi watches him leave with a funny expression, before turning back to you and his face softening.

you scoff. “i’m not gonna thank you.”

akaashi smiles, as though he was already expecting that. “you looked uncomfortable. you can just tell them that you have plans with me and i’ll understand and play along.”

but he doesn’t understand that you don’t want him to do all this from the goodness of his heart, but actually because you want a date from him, does he?

you sigh, breaking eye contact. “so you avoid me all week and then make my plans for me? some nerve you got there.” you’re not actually mad at him. akaashi shows his way of caring through subtle ways like this, because he can’t bring himself to just say plainly what he wants.

somehow, knowing all these little things about him makes it harder to get angry.

akaashi looks guilty at least. “sorry, did you plan on going?”

“no, of course not. you know i’d rather not bother,” you laugh.

akaashi looks thoughtful at this response.

it’s 2 in the morning.

2 in the morning and you’ve been tossing and turning unable to sleep so you decided to watch some shitty reruns that weren’t even close to enjoyable. but it took your mind off of things. like the fact that your akaashi is drifting away and he won’t even tell you what you did wrong.

and also-- what in the everloving fuck is akaashi keiji doing standing outside your window like that?”

“keiji?” you whisper, hysterical in a way that neared yelling; you didn’t notice the slip of his name, but he did. “what the fuck are you doing here?”

you had to pinch your arm to make sure that you aren’t hallucinating.

akaashi’s gaze on you is piercing. you definitely don’t look at the way the long sleeves of his shirt is cuffed around his forearms-- you do not. “can you sneak out?”

“what? right now?” even with your incredulity, he nods patiently. “are you fucking crazy!? how the hell did you even--”

“let me have this, y/n,” akaashi says, looking at you so earnestly you want to slap yourself silly for even raising your voice at him. “please.”

“akaashi--”

“keiji,” he whispers back, craning his neck to glance behind him. he’s usually not this adventurous, but you tell yourself that this is probably not the last surprise he’s giving you. “come on.”

so you give in.

well, kind of. you were expecting him to take you somewhere and kidnap you. maybe offer you to the aliens so it would leave some explanations as to why akaashi is acting so fucking weird!

but he actually led you to your own backyard, where there’s a speaker on the table and his phone on top of it. it’s playing some slow music you vaguely recognized played by a popular artist. you wonder if your neighbors have suddenly gotten deaf or if you’re the only one who feels as if the world has gone silent just for this.

akaashi must like this song if he’s willing to listen to it right now after offering:

“can we have a dance?”

you stare at him, round-eyed. so this is why he’s all dressed up. and you’re in your most comfortable pajamas. “you’re fucking crazy.”

akaashi can’t hide his smile. “that’s not an answer.”

you give in, taking his hand as he guides you to wrap it around his and the other on his shoulder. “keiji.”

“y/n.” he has one hand on your waist now. you don’t think you’ve been this intimately close to akaashi before, so you need to speak up before you lose your mind.

“did i do something? to, like, make you mad at me or something? did i upset you?”

akaashi’s eyes soften. “no, of course not.” you don’t know, but somehow you two are slow dancing, and akaashi is leading -- so naturally, as if this is how it’s supposed to be.

“then why were you avoiding me?”

“i didn’t mean to. i was just… thinking.”

you pair are swaying slightly, following the melody. your heart is fluttering and akaashi keeps looking at you. what the hell is happening? “d-does it have to involve not being around me?”

“i didn’t like the space either, y/n. but i was thinking about things that you would hate me for.”

you sigh. “keiji. look. you’re my best friend -- my bestest one ever -- and i love you more than you know, do you seriously think i would just hate y--”

akaashi’s eyebrows rise to his hairline. it’s the most expressive you’ve seen him. “what did you just say?”

you’ve never said the “L” word before. especially not just to akaashi, because then it would mean different. and akaashi -- stupid keiji who knows you too well -- knows this.

“--you, uh-- fuck.” you pull away from him. “did i just confess? was that a confession? please ignore what i said. i didn’t say anything. let me continue my monologue, dammit.”

akaashi can’t stop smiling. “do you mind repeating that? i didn’t hear you properly.”

“no. nooooo, don’t look at me like that.” you cover your eyes so you wouldn’t have to see the way he looks so happy. it’s not good for your soft heart.

“and how do i look at you?” akaashi is amused. he’s just teasing you at this point.

when you don’t reply, akaashi persists. he hasn’t been this assertive since… ever. maybe you’re a bad influence on him. “how do you know that you love me?”

“i don’t know! i just-- i just look at you and--” your voice goes quieter. “i think i do.”

akaashi hums, tugging you close until your chests are touching and leads you to sway again. “then, in that case. i think i might be in love with you, too.”

[macnevercries]

kuroo tetsurou: good luck charm

fem!reader, kuroo is pathetic and whipped, your kisses are his good luck charms :) unless it’s on the lips; in that case, he will not function properly, wc 2.1k

“just let y/n give kuroo a kiss on the cheek,” says nekoma teammate, “it works wonders.”

kuroo steps out of the bus, yawning with his mouth open wide. he spots karasuno’s bus from the corner of his eye, and smiles fondly -- before it falls, his expression mixing into something more curious.

someone steps out from behind daichi; someone who kuroo has never seen before.

it was only a quick glance but kuroo took one look at you and thought: huh, today must be a pretty good day.

and, as if struck by a charm, it was.

“karasuno’s manager is pretty cute, isn’t she?”

kuroo pulls his shirt back on, grimacing at the sweat clinging to his back. he looks around for his towel, wondering where the hell he had dropped it; kenma walks past and throws it on his face, before returning back to his game. kuroo mutters his thanks.

“eh? kiyoko-san? obviously! we already talked about her!” kuroo sometimes wishes yamamoto has an off button.

“no, no. the new one!”

“there’s a new one!?”

kuroo sniffs, not bothering to look up. “if you have time to chit chat i’m sure you have time to practice a few more rounds, don’t you think?”

he smiles to himself, pleased, as his teammates cower and resume conversations, though at a lower volume. they had just finished rounds and rounds of practice matches with karasuno -- that damn chibi-chan with his damn stamina!!!! -- so of course they know kuroo wouldn’t dare.

however, kuroo would dare bring yaku in, and they didn’t want that to happen, dear god no. heavens no.

he strolls to where the water bottles are, and sees his good friend (that he obviously doesn’t want to throttle to the ground with a volleyball on and off-court) daichi talking to some girl he recognized hopping off the bus and standing next to the ‘kiyoko-san’ yamamoto and tanaka keeps babbling about. the new manager, kuroo thinks to himself.

he was very pleased to note it was the pretty girl he caught a glimpse of earlier.

maybe it really is a good day today.

“daichi, you didn’t tell me he was hot!” you fume. kuroo is immediately intrigued by the topic of this conversation.

“i wasn’t aware i had to inform you,” daichi says, blank-faced.

“you should’ve!” you snap, though there’s no real malice to it. daichi grunts when you smack his back. surprisingly, kuroo watches as daichi doesn’t smack you back. “you’ve told me all these sexy stories about him and expect me to act normal when i finally see his face? damn you. bastard.”

daichi groans, defeated by absolutely nothing -- disgust, probably. “i have not been telling you anything remotely close to that. you’re the one who has a huge crush on someone you haven’t met.”

you gasp. “now--”

“now, daichi,” kuroo muses, almost chuckling when you flinch and when daichi’s shoulders slump further. “that’s a bit cruel, isn’t it? a little hope wouldn’t hurt.”

“if it isn’t false hope,” daichi murmurs, looking at kuroo like he knows that kuroo tripped over his smooth floor last night. “maybe i don’t have to worry about that.”

“creepy,” kuroo comments, laughing when daichi huffs at him, all lighthearted banter that’s familiar for the two captains. you, however--

kuroo smiles, though it's much more pleasant than what he usually flashes at the rival captain. “nice to meet you. new manager?”

you nod stiffly, almost uncomfortable. kuroo takes a mindful step back to give you more space. crap, he winces, i didn’t even realize i was too close. don’t be a creep.

“yeah.” it was almost as if he was just imagining your nerves, because then you shoot him a grin that’s way too smug and bright. it mirrors his. “it’s an honor to meet nekoma’s captain, kuroo tetsurou. i have fun watching your team play.”

kuroo feels himself burst with pride. you sure know the way to a man’s heart. “not everyone has the pleasure, that’s true.”

daichi slips away, unnoticed.

his eyes lower to something more mischievous, toeing the line. “it’s a little unfair you know my name, but all i know from you is a pretty face who seems to have a little crush on one of the boys here.”

you falter, that's one thing kuroo knows for sure, but instead of turning all shy and nervous, you laugh -- and wow the sky is really blue today. he might just walk home everyday if the weather’s this nice. if the air is this fresh. if your smile is this pretty.

what? stupid, you just met.

“l/n y/n.”

kuroo can’t bring himself to look away anyway.

“it’s nice to meet you, l/n.” it really is. the wedding bells ring somewhere far back in his head -- which is. weird. he watches your back when you nip on over back to your team.

has his chest always felt this light? kuroo shrugs. he’ll use this to his advantage for the next round then.

So, how did it go with y/n?

kuroo was expecting a lot of things. he was expecting a bit more relaxation -- it’s saturday, for fucks sake -- and maybe coaxing kenma into playing with him. he’d have to be sneaky with kenma, or else he’s the one who’ll end up with a joystick in his hands. it’s a hit or miss with his best friend.

he does not expect to trip over nothing seeing daichi’s text. it’s smooth floorboards, how the hell is he tripping?

[kuroo 7:28] good morning

[kuroo 7:28] what the fuck

[kuroo 7:29] Σ(;Φ ω Φ)

[daichi 7:30] She seems really happy. don’t distract her too much though, she’s still OUR manager. don’t get any ideas.

[kuroo 7:30] it was nice. i think she likes me lol. u better watch out

[kuroo 7:32] wait what the hell ar eyou talking abouth again????

[daichi 7:35] You think i don’t know?

[daichi 7:36] Oh, wait. Sorry.

[daichi 7:36] Were you planning to keep it a secret?

“i’m pretty sure i’m the one who doesn’t know,” kuroo grumbles, shoving breakfast in his mouth.

[kuroo 7:36] stop it what;;;; can u tell me whats going on first

[kuroo 7:40] WHAT

[kuroo 7:40] YOU THINK WE’RE FUCKING DATING????????

[kuroo 7:40] SAWAMURA

[kuroo 7:46] DUDE. ITS BEEN A DAY

[kuroo 7:50] COME BACK AND FUCKING EXPLAIN

[daichi 8:00] Sorry for assuming

[kuroo 8:00] doesn’t she have the hots for someone rn?????? dont weird her out away from me i rlly like her

[daichi 8:05] For someone so smart you are an idiot

[kuroo 8:06] HOYL SHIT

when it’s revealed that your crush is indeed no one other than kuroo, he wasted no time in sweeping you away (read: asking you out before anyone else gets any ideas) and wooing you with his charms (read: failing and being pathetic in front of you, which you found endearing).

(however, he does not let you live down the fact that you called him sexy and hot multiple times. if weaponized correctly, you end up a flustered puddle and he rides that high for weeks.)

it’s bliss, kuroo thinks. sometimes he wonders what he did in his past life to deserve you. not someone like you, but l/n y/n.

it is a tad awkward that karasuno’s manager is dating the captain of their deep-rooted, long-established, everything-volleyball-related rival, but you two make it work. kuroo reluctantly agreed he’ll let you cheer for karasuno when they’re going against each other, i guessssss :/

but what really takes the cake is when schools -- including karasuno; including you -- come over for practice matches and you wish him luck before rounds -- unless he’s showing daichi who’s boss. you usually do it for him, though.

“tetsurou!!!”

it’s as if his body is wired to respond to you instantly, no hesitation. kuroo looks up, grinning lazily as you jog up to him.

some players look his way, watching you with some awe on their stupid boy faces. kuroo, with smug satisfaction, watches their stupid boy faces fall when he pulls you by the waist to keep you close.

“pretty girl,” he says in lieu of a greeting. it’s always true, with you. one look your way -- pretty, pretty, pretty.

“dumbass,” you greet back, grinning so brightly he can’t even bring himself to feign anger. as if he can ever be mad at you no matter how hard he tried. “against dateko, huh? sounds fun.”

he shrugs, tapping his fingers on your back. “won’t be for them if it’s a clean victory.”

“it’s a practice match, chill.” but you laugh nonetheless, elbowing his side. “karasuno’s starting soon so i’ll head over there in a sec. just wanted to say hi.”

kuroo makes a show of pouting. “can’t even excuse yourself one time? for me? what am i to you, babe?”

“no,” you say, and he stumbles back as if struck by an arrow. “i want to watch shouyou-kun’s new quick! you’ve seen it, right? pretty cool, right?” kuroo huffs but smiles and nods anyway -- any sane person on earth is impressed by that freak duo. “not as cool as you, of course.”

it’s a beautiful day today. “damn right.”

“captain! kuroo! tetsu! rou!”

kuroo inwardly groans.

you laugh, waving at yaku and inuoka. “that’s your cue, captain.” he loves it when you call him that. “beat their asses, okay?”

“of course i will.”

you curl your fingers on his shirt, then abruptly pull him down for your lips to meet his cheek. kuroo’s soul and mind descend into a series of frantic keysmashes, mouth agape like a fish out of water.

“meet me after the match if you win!” you say.

nekoma wins.

kuroo does not let it go.

every time, without fail, he makes you kiss him on the cheek, and then he is filled with determination, enough to make him do his best -- which usually leads to rounds easily won.

there is no scientific reason, no matter how much his friends insisted there was. kuroo simply went to court happier than he was pre-kiss; oftentimes, playing a game you’re meant to enjoy leaves less stress when you enter with a bounce on your step immediately.

you truly did not mean for it to turn out this way, though.

“y/n.”

“hm.”

“y/n.”

“i’m busy, tetsu.”

“you’ve reviewed the same worksheet twice!”

“i’m double-checking!”

kuroo shakes his head. “i have a match later.” his pleading eyes is almost as cute as a cat’s if he wasn’t such a little shit. “please?”

“no. you’re getting too spoiled.”

“y/n!!! i’m not, i promise!!!”

yaku sniffs, judging him silently with just a look in his eye. “do you really need to do this every time?”

kuroo grins slyly, waggling his eyebrows, caging you on your seat from behind with his arms on either edge of your desk. you are a tad fascinated by how his hand almost swallows yours whole. “it’s tradition. it ain’t my fault you don’t have a cute girlfriend cheering you on.”

“fuck you.”

you can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of you, finally looking up from your notebook. “does everyone actually believe him that it works?”

“it’s true, in a way.” yaku shrugs, glaring sternly at the now-sheepish captain. “he made us lose one round because he was too busy worrying about his girlfriend sick at home.”

he gapes. “you told me you wouldn’t snitch!”

“i didn’t promise anything.” yaku then  makes a gesture with a finger -- hold on, it means -- and answers his phone. “kenma is missing!” the speakers say, then something else about a walking-fluff-of-orange stealing him away. you and kuroo look at each other.

“well,” yaku ends the call without another word, grinning at you, “see you when we celebrate,” yaku winks, ignoring kuroo’s hostile hiss.

“good luck out there, yaku-san~!” you call out; he gives a single wave in response.

when you turn to your boyfriend, he’s still looking like a cat that’s been sprayed with water.

“tetsurou,” you say; it’s effective when snapping him out of it, “have fun, okay? don’t let the coach down.”

“i never do.”

“i know. it’s why you’re my favorite.”

the sparkle in his eyes and the way his chest puffs up with pride means you’re treading in the right direction. it’s so laughably easy to stroke his ego when you’re named y/n and you say a few nice words.

“do i get my good luck kiss now? or do you want to make me work for it again?” he does the weird waggling of eyebrows again.

you pull him down by the tie, hitting him right on the lips. he startles, yet composes himself quickly by squeezing his eyes shut. when you break the kiss, he chases after you immediately, but you cut him off with a hand on his mouth.

“good luck.”

nekoma wins. (though, if you ask around, they’d say that it’s everyone but kuroo’s effort. the poor man was steaming from the ears and colored red for a good portion of the match.)

it’s a perfect day today.

[macnevercries]

𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐎𝐎 𝐓𝐄𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐎𝐔: 𝐎𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒

blurb you’re trying to flirt with your best friend; kuroo’s losing his fucking mind.

# gn!reader, fluff, slight angst(?) bc kuroo’s a dumb bitch, friends to lovers :)

your shirt’s askew, revealing the smooth skin of your neck.

kuroo stares.

he’s not sure how long you’ve been looking like that, but it sure as hell feels like it’s been forever. he feels his face burning, but nothing else is coming to mind. he’s zeroed in on the exposed slope of your neck, and he feels like he can't breathe. or maybe he's breathing too hard.

you wave a hand. “kuroo…? you with me?”

he exhales, hard. “sorry—” he forces himself to calm down; to think about anything but biting you like a crazed vampire. “sorry, sorry. just, remembered something.”

you tilt your head, and it shows the slope of your— kuroo chokes, but mentally. “about?”

about how much i’m in love with you.

what? kuroo recoils at his own thoughts.

“nothing important,” he lies through his own teeth.

your eyes seem to lose brightness for a split second, had kuroo not been paying attention. “oh, alright.” you turn away from him, fixing your shirt.

why does it feel like kuroo’s not the only one disappointed?

you’re on his lap.

okay, he seriously doesn’t know how you pair ended here. it was only supposed to be a movie night (when is it only just a movie night, tetsu-chan? a voice that suspiciously sounds like oikawa whispers in his mind) but then you two inched closer and closer to each other like a gravitational pull.

and now you’re sleeping on his chest and kuroo is just melting because you look so adorable that he wants to kiss the hell out of you. but you’re asleep, peaceful and unaware of his internal conflict—like always.

“love you, tetsu,” you murmur sleepily against his chest as kuroo stiffens.

he runs a hand through his face, exhaling deeply.

“love you, too.”

“this is bad,” kuroo says into the phone next to his ear, gripping the pillow on his lap like it’s offended him. “this is really, really bad.”

it’s the fifth day of kuroo losing his shit while you unintentionally flirt with him while in the same house.

“you’re just making it bad,” kenma says. kuroo hears the clicking of kenma’s mechanical keyboard—it sounds extremely expensive. his best friend sighs, “i don’t get why you don’t just admit it to y/n.”

kuroo bristles at the thought, scowling at an imaginary kenma right in front of him. “you want me to just— hey, baby, this sounds crazy and you might slap me after this, but i am in love with you and have been since middle school!”

he scratches the nape of his neck, suddenly embarrassed at kenma’s deadpanned silence.

“i was talking about y/n giving you awkward bo—”

“woah, woah, hey! keep it PG!” oikawa shrieks, and it’s a painful sound. kuroo honestly forgot that he’s also on the call. “but kenma-chan is right, you know? kuroo tetsurou, you’re not only going to die a virgin—but also a coward for never confessing!”

“i’d rather die both than have y/n avoid me,” kuroo murmurs, and his brain decides to be a bitch and give him a flashback on how you looked so cute with his shirt.

kenma stops clicking, muttering an interested: “oh?”

oikawa makes a noise that sounds part amazed and part bewildered. “wow, you really love y/n-chan, don’t you? i thought this was just horny-kuroo speaking, but this is past that.”

“it’s been past that for ages,” kuroo hisses. “and now i’m torn between just kissing the life out of y/n and hibernating in my room for even thinking about that.”

“nevermind, you’re just really stupid,” kenma goes back to clicking.

sugawara—again, kuroo doesn’t know how they’re here—laughs; it’s the evil one. “we all know that. how could we even expect it to be different?”

“hey, shut the fuck up!” kuroo barks as oikawa cackles, followed by a thump. kuroo assumes he fell on the floor. “just because i’m at the top of my class doesn’t mean you should be jealous.”

“king of the class yet also king of being obliviously a dumbass,” kenma says; and it’s even worse when kenma teases him because it’s so deadpanned that he sounds deadly serious.

kuroo leaves the call, throwing his arms in the air.

he wanted some bro talk. he wanted some bro advice. instead, he got some bro-punch in the bro-face because his friends are keeping an inside joke from kuroo—and they keep saying you’ll find out when the time is right!

kuroo catches a glimpse of you from outside his room where his door is pushed open: you smiling at your phone. it’s a soft smile, and it looks good on you. he wonders when you’ll give that to him.

kuroo sighs to himself, turning away.

when will the time ever be right?

“guys, i think i’m giving up,” you announce one faithful day, walking into the kitchen while kuroo’s rereading his school materials.

kuroo listens half-heartedly, wondering who you’re talking to. and then he keeps reminding himself to focus on his goddamn chemistry textbook.

“no, dumbass. i tried everything!” you yell into the phone, pouring water in a glass. but with one hand on the phone, it wobbles dangerously.

without thinking too much, kuroo rushes to your side, standing right behind you as he steadies the glass for your sake. he will get a heart attack if you break this glass and get it all over you—and he does not want to get one right now.

your warmth is a distraction, and he barely catches it when you smile and thank him.

the person on the phone continues talking as you fill the glass to the very brim, and kuroo finally allows himself to release his grip.

“careful,” he says. “that one’s heavier.”

“gotcha,” you say, grinning in amusement. “no, tooru—” what? you’re talking to oikawa? “i’m not trying to be subtle… tips? fuck that book! that was written by a man anyway, i should know what i’m doing better.”

speaking of, kuroo should probably go back to his textbook.

“yes, i’m just going to do it,” you grumble, and kuroo actually likes that nose wrinkle you do. it’s cute. he pokes it and you stick your tongue out at him. “yeah, he’s right in front of me; you get to have a front row seat.”

but you’re also holding onto his wrist so he’s kind of stuck right now.

you look up at kuroo, stating: “tetsurou, i have been trying to flirt with you for the past week. tell me now, are you not interested in me or?”

“what.”

“that’s not an answer.”

kuroo’s eyes bulge out of their sockets. “you’re serious.”

“as serious as i have been flirting with you,” you answer back.

“what the fuck,” kuroo breathes, and he’s sure he’s blushing madly because you’re unable to hold in your little giggles that make him feel warmer. “what the fuck.”

“still not an answer.”

“i’m fucking in love with you,” he adds hurriedly, knocking the phone away from your grasp in lieu of holding your face. he tries to convince himself that this is real. “and i am so sorry that i am ridiculously stupid.”

“oh,” your eyes soften, hands coming on top of his, “me too. i’ve been in love with you for months now. it’s kind of driving me crazy.”

“try years.”

you huff sharp laughter, squeezing his hands—and he melts into your touch, knocking your foreheads together. “so competitive. are you gonna kill block me from a kiss now?”

“never in my life,” he mutters, and slots his lips into yours; like the way he could’ve been doing all this time.

“can you wear my shirt again? that one really got me going.”

“i’m still here!” oikawa shrieks, mortified.

haikyuu taglist [ @crystal-lilac @jaepann @bun-ina ]