When you get this, list your five favorite songs atm and send this ask to at least 10 people in your notifs! (No pressure!)
Hello!!! Thank you for the ask!! Sorry for the delay, sleep has been a fuck as of late.
Currentlyyyyy.... hm.
Centipede Legs by Luluyam
Lake Pontchartrain by Ludo
fuckin....... Jim Bob. by Hardy.
Maphra's cover of Doomed by Bring Me The Horizon
TOUBOU by DUSTCELL
\o/ yayayayayay~ thank you i love these things. Let me open up my notifs... I think I'm gunna ping instead of sending asks due to being kind of insane right now c:
@static-static @ikemenomegas @demonic-silver-and-gold @featheredcrowbabbles @hemostatiquesheep @moonofmercury @junipersheart @forgotten-dustbunny @bagofdrymice @fipsthegreat
summary: summer weather’s always better with you. a self-indulgent drabble of you and Suga dancing in the rain, cause why not?
The rain drops on the window pane were chasing each other again today. One by one, they splatter against the glass, marking another rainy day, begging for summer break to begin.
Yet here you are.
Sigh.
“Forgot your umbrella too, huh?”
You turn and there was the love of your life.
Silver wind-swept hair and ephemeral smile.
Crinkled eyes and dimpled cheeks making your heart squeal.
Sugawara, Koushi.
“Yep— what a day to forget it,” you remark as you stick your hand out the window to test the weight of the droplets. Each little speck was dotting your palm until streams of water danced down your fingertips. Suga rests his elbows on the window sill. One hand propping his chin up, gazing outside, “Well at least I’m stuck here with you,” he stands impossibly close.
The splatter of rain drops mimics the pitter-patter of your heartbeat racing.
An electric thrum of vibration ready to spark and catch fire.
“You knoow… we could technically just run for it,” he challenges.
You arch a brow at him and glance at the downpour— the rain was one heavy drench away from being a flood zone. Your narrowed eyes meet his once more, “You wanna run in that mess?”
He shrugs nonchalantly with a playful smile lingering in the corners.
Just as you’re about to turn away to compose yourself from all the fluttering in your stomach, he suddenly grabs your hand, dragging you out the classroom and down the steps.
“Oi!”
Suga chortles and you let him pull you further until his hand is the only thing warming you while the raindrops start dancing on your skin.
“Suga!” you wail as the droplets strike cold within you.
“Come dance with me!” he takes both of your hands in his and spins you around.
You giggle as he swings your arms back and forth,
Left and right,
Up and down.
No real sense of direction.
No music besides the smattering of raindrops.
Your feet splattering against the puddles.
His honeyed irises filling you with warmth.
It’s what he does best.
He’s the one person who dances with you on the rainy gray days of life.
And you can’t help but fall for him more and more each day.
summary: It’s the end of the year, and with it comes a sense of familiarity and the unknown. Asahi comes back like usual to visit; Daichi is waiting for the right moment to tell you; and Suga? Well, that’s where it’s still unknown.
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Stepping into your darkened apartment, you flick on the light switch and drop your keys onto the wooden console table right next to the door. Thunderous drops of rain splatter outside your window, and Asahi follows you in with his carry-on luggage in tow. Half of his clothes are soaked in rainwater, and you donned the same half-drenched getup, since you didn’t realize how bad of a storm it was going to be. It was one of those moments where nature starts off with a light-hearted pitter patter of droplets above your head and then douses you in torrential rains a mere few seconds later.
“Damn, that was quite the storm!” you exclaim while taking off your rain boots and setting aside your dripping yellow umbrella off to the corner. You grab your comfy house slippers from a basket tucked underneath the console table.
“Thank you for picking me up!” Asahi chirps back and takes his shoes off, placing them next to yours.
He came back to Sendai to visit for the new year, and he asked to stay at your place for a few days. You picked him up from the station that evening after his tiresome train ride from Tokyo.
“Here,” you hand him a pair of slippers “These are Suga’s, so hopefully they aren’t too small.”
“Thank you, y/n-san! I’m sure they’re fine.”
“You should take the bathroom first” you take his red luggage from his hand, “I’ll go heat up some leftover dinner for you.”
“No, wait! You don’t have to! I was going to grab takeout next door and come back here anyway.”
You look at him incredulously and point to the raging storm out your window, “What are you talking about? You’re gonna get even more soaked just trying to get food! I’m sure you’re tired too. I made extra curry knowing you’d probably be hungry.”
Asahi’s chocolate eyes sparkle, his heart warming at your concern for him. “You’re the best, y/n-chan!”
You wave your hand dismissively and push him toward the bathroom. “Aah, stop it, stop it. Go shower before you get a cold. Sorry I didn’t bring a big enough umbrella earlier; I had no idea it was gonna rain this hard!”
“But won’t you get a cold? You got soaked too! I can’t take a shower before the owner of the house!”
You narrow your eyes at him, “The owner of the house says that you should take a shower first, because I don’t like taking care of sick friends while they’re staying over.”
“But—“
“I’ll be fine! I’ll just change into some dry clothes,” you push him through the door. “Now go! I have to make your dinner.”
Asahi chuckles as he walks into the white-tiled floor of the bathroom and gives up on arguing with you. He knows you’re too stubborn to listen, yet kind at the same time.
That’s what he likes about you— you’re the friend that he can always go back to whenever he stays at Miyagi. Asahi often comes back for the holidays at the end of the year, and this time was no different. Sometimes he stays with Suga or Daichi, but staying with you was always a little less stressful than with the other two. Suga was the neat freak that he is, so Asahi often felt like he had to tiptoe around the house so that “mom” wouldn’t get mad at him. Daichi, on the other hand, regularly had his strict “Mr. Perfect” daily routine of early morning workouts, a full breakfast, work, cooking a healthy dinner at home and reading a book before sleeping, it made Asahi feel like he was intruding most of the time.
Asahi likes staying with you, because at least you don’t nitpick the way the blanket is folded after he uses it, and you don’t glare into the back of his head when he happens to be sitting in your favorite reading chair for the night. But then again, you had your own funny quirks too.
He looks into the mirror above the sink and fixes a few strands of hair plastered to his wet forehead. Sudden music blasts outside the bathroom door, and he peeks out to check on you.
Yup, there it is.
He sees you dancing in front of the microwave. Your rhythm-less steps and flailing arms do little to discourage your dance break. A titter escapes as he watches you wave your arms around, looking like one of those tall fluorescent blow-up tube figures powered by an electric fan underneath them. No sense of rhythm or musicality at all, and yet you dance without a care anyway. You’re the friend who’s always the shameless one that does whatever they want when they think no one’s watching (sometimes you still do whatever you want, even if you're being watched too). Asahi shuts the door with amusement on his face, and you continue making a fool out of yourself.
Just like usual.
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“Asaaaa-chan, what do you think about this?” you singsong while turning your laptop screen towards him. You were camped out on the couch, blanket tightly enveloped around you and a towel wrapping your hair while window shopping online.
Asahi sits at the dining table and takes a bite of his curry. “A plant? Yeah, I bet he’d like that.” he says while munching between spoonfuls. “I’m sure Mr. Perfect like him wouldn’t mind caring for a low-maintenance plant like that.”
“I know right! The always-dependable-Daichi would fare well with this little guy.”
“Yeah, I bet he’d take care of it so much that it starts growing flowers!”
“…”
Silence pierces the air, and it takes a few seconds for you to respond, “Asa-chan, I don’t think this thing grows flowers…” you trail off and stare blankly at him.
His face was lit up, eyes expectant like he’s waiting for something. A response maybe? You’re not really sure what.
And then a snort tumbles out from you after realizing that he’s waiting for you to laugh at his joke, “Hah! I see your humor is as dry as ever! Is that how you pick up all your boyfriends in Tokyo?!” you snicker.
An unusual sour look enters his features, and he goes back to chomping away at a carrot and a spoonful of rice.
“Hah ?” your quizzical face gets up from the couch, blanket still wrapped around your shoulders as you take a seat across from him. “What’s going on, Asa-chan? Boyfriend troubles? Lack of a boyfriend?,” your eyes widen, “too many boyfriends for you to handle?”
Sighing heavily, Asahi takes his bowl and turns to face the wall while still munching on his curry. The mood in the room dampens, making your forehead furrow in concern.
You extend a hand to pat his shoulder, “Aw what’s wrong? You can tell me about it.”
“It’s nothing…”
“Are you sure?”
Asahi lets out a long deep breath and sets his bowl down on the table.
“Is this about Noya-san?”
Asahi’s hot cocoa eyes start to well up a little as he turns back to face you. He wipes his damp nose with a paper napkin and scrunches it up. “Yeah,” he responds in the softest voice possible.
“It’s okay, it’s okay. I can be a listening ear if you want me to be.”
Asahi stares at his food, not making eye contact. It takes him a couple breaths to get a word out, and your eyebrows instinctively knit in worry.
“He’s leaving again. To travel. I see him less and less these days, and I’m used to it! But… I feel like at some point he won’t be coming back to Japan anymore. That he’ll build a life elsewhere…” you stay silent as you watch Asahi pick at his food, “… he’ll build a life, and I won’t be anywhere in the picture.”
He raises his head, and you see sorrow painted in his orbs. You reach for his hand across the table to hold it in both of your palms. “What should I do?” he squeaks out.
You ponder about it for a second and focus your gaze at him. “You two have been dating since the end of high school right? It’s good to have a talk about it. To see if you two are still willing to make it work.”
Asahi avoids your stare and shifts his eyes down. He removes his hand from your grasp and starts twiddling his thumbs, “Well… we um— I haven’t really, uh...“ you raise an eyebrow and tilt your head in confusion. Asahi sighs again, “ ...we never really made things official. I never confessed to him, and he’s never confessed to me— I mean, not that I expect him to. He has a lot of different priorities right now, so who knows?“ he scratches the back of his neck and raises his head, looking more nervous rather than distraught.
The mood inadvertently shifts to a lighter tone, and you breathe a tiny sigh of relief. “Soo, the relationship is undefined… I mean, there’s nothing wrong with that! As long as you both are okay with it!”
“I am! But…”
You wait for him to continue, but nothing comes out. “But now… you don’t really seem like you’re okay with it, right?” you peer at his face.
Asahi lets out another drawn out sigh, “Is that what it looks like?”
You silently nod your head.
He breathes out and closes his eyes. Worry lines threaten to crease his forehead permanently. “I guess… I’m just afraid of what might happen. I know he wants to see the world, so I don’t want to stop him from doing that… but I don’t know whether I should even tell him how I really feel–” he flutters his eyes open and stares at the hard grain of the table. “If he ends up feeling the same way and likes me back, I don’t want to keep him here and be the reason he stops doing what he loves most.”
Silence fills the air as you wonder about what to say. Your kitchen clock suddenly seems a whole lot louder with its ticking hands filling up the empty noise of possible words to say in your head. You open your mouth hoping the right strings of advice come to you, but you end up pursing your lips together unsure. You don’t know what to say, so you extend a hand out and place it on top of his, hoping that the slight warmth it brings gives him a bit of comfort.
The corners of Asahi’s mouth turn up, and he looks at you, “Thank you for listening, y/n-san.”
“Of course,” you give a tiny smile back. “I’m sorry… I don’t really know what advice to give.”
His eyes crinkle in warmth, “It’s nothing to be sorry about. I’m sorry to dump this all on you.”
“No, don’t be sorry about that! I'm always here if you need someone to listen,” you answer back.
Asahi’s chocolate brown orbs melt into yours, and his faint smile deepens, “Thank you.”
You stand up from your chair and squeeze his hand, “Okay, get up. Let’s make some brownies.”
“Huh?”
You flash him a grin, “Let’s worry about things when they actually happen. We shouldn’t spend time worrying about the 'what-ifs' when we don’t even know what the future will be like. So let’s make some brownies for now!” you excitedly pull him towards the kitchen.
Asahi lets out a chuckle as you start going through your kitchen cabinets, and a clatter of baking pans reverberate through the air. You say that you don’t know what advice to give, but those were the words he needed to hear to end the night.
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If one were to walk into your apartment, they would be met with a kerfuffle of discarded balloons littering the floor, half-hung streamers strewn across the walls, and the smell of burnt brownies from the night before. It’s the afternoon of the last day of the year– the day of the surprise birthday party for Daichi and Asahi– and let’s just say that Suga almost dropped the cake in his hands, mouth wide open, appalled at the sight once he walked in.
“What the fuck is happening here.”
You were standing on your sofa trying to hang up a streamer, and you turned around at the sound of his voice. Peeking your head out, you see Suga standing at the edge of the hallway leading to your living room. His look of shock at whatever you’re doing is almost a daily occurrence at this point, and you flash him a grin, “Oooh cake’s here! Will you put that in the fridge please?”
Suga shakes his head with clear disapproval drawn on his face. He scans the room as he walks to your kitchen, already prioritizing what mess of yours to clean up first. He places the cake inside your fridge and turns toward the oven right next to it. “What’d you burn this time, y/n?” he chides while checking the inside for whatever burn remnants you might have still left.
“Hmm? Oh, you can still smell it?” you ask. “Asahi and I were baking brownies last night.
“Tell me you threw it out?”
“What?! Why? Only the edges were burnt! The middle was still pretty yummy and crisp too! You can take a piece; it’s right on top of the stovetop,” you chirp.
Suga peels back the foil of your baking pan, his forehead wrinkling in disgust. It was a pan of burnt brownies, alright. He wouldn’t even consider the small portion in the center of the square pan as edible, but of course you sliced right through it and ate a piece, leaving a jagged hole in the middle.
“I’m throwing this out.”
“No, wait!” you run across the room, making balloons scatter away from your path as you attempt to stop Suga from dumping everything in the trash.
He extends a hand out and palms your forehead, preventing you from getting any closer as he tries to throw the brownies out. “It looks like you’ve already had more than enough slices— like who the hell enjoys burnt food?! And, I know Asahi wouldn’t be as dumb as you to eat whatever carcinogen is in these.”
“They’re not burnt! They’re crisp!” you whine, “And Asahi did have some with me last night.”
“Damn, he probably just ate whatever you made to not make you feel bad!”
You pout at Suga and brush his hand away, “You’re so mean.”
He dumps the rest of that burnt chocolate mess in the trash and ties up the plastic bag. Suga hands it to you, “Now take out the trash; I’m going to start cleaning up in here.”
You glare into his poop brown eyes and forcefully swipe the trash bag away. He chuckles seeing your disgruntled face. Suga pushes you out of the kitchen while rolling up his sleeves and starts to whistle while cleaning up your mess.
Your bossy neat-freak idiot has arrived, and you know you can barely argue with his stubborn ass when it comes to cleaning. You leave through the door and head to the garbage disposal, letting out a huff of both annoyance and amusement.
“At least he actually enjoys cleaning up!” you thought to yourself as you think of Suga whistling while he works, hazel eyes excited to exterminate whatever he deems as unsightly or unorganized. “With him around for end-of-the-year cleaning, he’d probably end up throwing half of your apartment out!” your eyes widen at the thought, and you start trudging through your apartment hallways a little faster, worried that the idiot will do exactly that.
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The aftermath of that whirlwind of a cleaning adventure has Suga balling up his latex gloves and throwing it in the trash. The idiot truly did go on a rampage in your apartment all afternoon. He not only picked up your scattered mess, but he disinfected every last surface, vacuumed your floors, and even wiped the windows down. He fit three days of work into one afternoon, and although you were also tidying up, he still managed to pick up more than you while also setting up the party decorations.
Suga lounges on the couch and admires his work, proud eyes gleaming. He glances at you with a smug smile, “What would you do without me?”
“A lot. I can do a lot without you,” you snapped back and sat right next to him, “it would just take me a little longer, that’s it.”
“Tch. Yeah, you’ll end up cleaning through new year’s day and postponing the party.”
You stick out your tongue at him, not even bothering to retort back, because you know it’s true.
Ping!
It’s 17:57 on your phone and Suga reaches over to pick it up from the coffee table, “What time is ‘17:00’ again? 5 PM? Why do you still have it on the 24-hour clock?”
You take the phone from him and see that it’s a message from Asahi, “Oh, I just got used to it I guess. Remember how fucked up my sleeping schedule was in college? I pretty much woke up at weird-ass times, I figured I should start using it so that I won’t accidentally get ready for class at 6 PM again,” you snicker.
Suga titters alongside you, remembering how that was just a few months ago when you were living like that. Both of you started working full-time half a year ago, and it surprises him to think of how fast the seasons change. “It’s already the end of the year, huh?” Suga leans his head back to stare at the ceiling.
“Yeah,” you rest your head on the couch and shut your eyelids.
“That was fast.”
“Yep.”
“Time seems to be going by faster than college now.”
“Yuck.”
Suga titters, “It was just six months ago when you were worried day and night about getting a job,” he reminisces.
You breathe out a satisfied sigh, “Yeah. It was six months ago, when you told me how you were going to teach children about the unfair systems of the world and that life will just suck sometimes so that they’re prepared for it,” you chuckle.
He looks pointedly at you, “Hey. I’m still biding my time and only leaving snide commentaries to them every now and then. I’m so new, they probably wouldn’t think twice of firing me if I get the smallest complaint.”
“Haha, they wouldn’t do that!” a sparkle hits your eyes as you gaze at him, “I bet they already love you so much; they’d be heartbroken to let go of a pretty teacher like you,” you chuckle into your palm.
Suga doesn’t even deny it (that egotistical moron) and brushes you off while returning the laughter.
Knock, knock.
“Oh! That must be them! Quick! Hide!” you rush quietly to the door to unlock it and shut off the lights.
Suga hides behind the side of the sofa, an empty cramped space next to one corner of the room. He suddenly feels your body crash into his, “Oi! Why are you hiding here too?!” Suga hisses.
“Why are you hiding here? Weren’t you gonna hide by the bookcase?” you whisper-yell at him.
“No. You said you were! Get out of here before they come in—” the creak of your door resounds through the air, and you instinctively cover Suga’s mouth.
“Shut it.” you peek your head out from the side of the couch and quickly retract it back after hearing faint footsteps walk towards the living room.
Suga makes eye contact with you and tilts his head towards the confetti popper in his hand. You give him a firm nod, and get ready to jump in surprise. Your cue was to wait for the lights to come back on, hoping that Asahi and Daichi would flick the switch while wondering what’s going on. A fews seconds pass and a snap of the lights illuminate the space. With excitement dancing in your eyes and filling it to the brim, you leap out so animatedly from your confined corner and Suga follows suit behind you, a blinding grin plastered on his face.
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!” you both yell and thundering pops of confetti burst across the room. Your outbursts are met with a steady, defensive stance from Daichi and a cry of shock from a cowering Asahi behind him. Colorful sparkles glitter the space between the four of you. Balloons and streamers of different hues brighten up the cream-colored walls. It doesn’t take much for you and Suga to laugh at the startled expressions on your birthday celebrants’ faces, and the merriment continues with Asahi and Daichi joining in on the hilarity of it all.
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As you pop your last spoonful of strawberry shortcake into your mouth, you let out a satisfied groan and lean back into the chair, closing your eyes.
“Finally, you’re done.”
You continue sitting back, not letting your sweet, satisfied post-dessert bliss be ruined by the idiot. “Shush. You know I like to savor my desserts,” you peacefully remark at Suga.
“Yeah, and I like to enjoy the midnight food market by the temple,” he retorts back, “so does Daichi and Asahi.”
“No, it’s okay! The night’s still early!” Asahi responds amiably.
“Yeah, take your time. Don’t listen to Suga,” Daichi’s forehead creases as he scowls at Suga.
“You all spoil her too much.”
You alertly raise your head, “Yeah, I shouldn’t be spoiled! It’s your guy’s birthdays!” you scoot your chair back and give them a thumbs up as you stand. “I’ll go get a scarf and put my coat on, and then we’ll go enjoy the night away and leave Suga-chan behind!” you scamper off to your room, leaving an amused trio chuckling at your antics.
Suga clears the table and throws the remaining plate into the sink. Asahi starts fitting a charcoal beanie over his flowing hair and walks to the bathroom. Daichi stands up and weaves an arm through his olive green puffer jacket. Suga returns from the kitchen and grabs his powder blue scarf lying on the side of the arm chair and wraps it around his neck when Daichi suddenly says, “I’m thinking of confessing to her right before the night ends.”
Suga chokes, realizing that he accidentally wrapped his scarf too tight.
“It would be romantic if I did it right before the sun rises, wouldn’t it?” Daichi’s eyes sparkled, proud that he planned that picture-perfect scene (well, technically Ikejiri came up with it— the man can dream up such overtly romantic gestures at times).
“Ah, uh yeah.” Suga fiddles at his scarf and takes a steady breath. He notices how Daichi keeps on wiping his seemingly clammy palms onto his dark denim pants. Beads of anxious sweat line his forehead. “Hey. You’ll be fine. Just say it and don’t beat around the bush. Knowing her, you’ll need to be extra obvious or she won’t get it,” he snorts.
“Haha, yeah you’re probably right.” Daichi snickers and starts to head to the door. “Thanks, Suga.” his walnut brown orbs full of warmth and less nervousness than before bore into Suga’s flat hazel eyes.
Suga is about to reply, when you abruptly appear outside your bedroom door, full of layers to defend yourself from the brisk winter air. “I’m ready!”
Asahi steps out of the bathroom, “Same here!”
“Okay, let’s go!” Daichi chirps back.
A sad smile makes its way to Suga’s face, and he doesn’t quite know whether it is out of tiredness from the long day or contentment for knowing that you might end the night dating his long-time best friend who he trusts to take care of you. A tiny knot forms in his stomach.
summary: Life is repetitive: you work, you play, you eat, you sleep and then you do it all over again. Days can sometimes pass and you're not even sure what happened. But hopefully there's that one thing that keeps us going. Or that one person.
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Daichi sits at the usual table by the windows, waiting for you to arrive at the coffee shop you two frequent before work. The increasingly chilly temperatures and cold slaps to the face by that furious wind this morning are enough to push him into the cozy café instead of waiting for you outside. He takes a sip of the bittersweet coffee and stares at his paper cup, swirling its contents while deep in thought.
Should I tell her? How do I tell her? Maybe it’ll be too weird coming from me because we’ve been friends all this time…
An audible sigh escapes his lips.
But no, Ikejiri’s right though. The worst thing that could happen is that she just avoids me for a bit. Y/n would probably even think that I’m joking! She would just reject me and try to put the awkwardness away as fast as possible. Yeah! Maybe I should just tell her to get over this feeling, because I know she wouldn’t choose a guy like me because…
… well, what’s there to like?
Daichi hears something move in front of him, and he looks up from his drink. You were pulling a chair out and plopping your bundled up self down in your seat. You made no effort to get out of your coat, despite how warm the café's temperature may be.
“Damn, it’s getting really cold now isn’t it?” you take your hands out from your pockets and try to thaw the iciness by rubbing your palms together.
Daichi can see how red your fingertips are from the cold, and he stretches a hand out wanting to hold them and warm them up a bit. He catches himself though.
Shit, what am I doing? Don’t be so obvious!
“Oh. Uh, yeah!” He tries to retract his arm smoothly by running a hand through his spiked hair while looking out the glass windows. The tips of his ears turn red from embarrassment.
“Look! Even your ears are turning red from the cold!” you giggle and reach over to tug playfully at Daichi’s ear. He feels your icy fingers and automatically catches your hand in his palm. His eyes widen and the rest of his face turns scarlet.
You just keep on giggling, “Haha, sorry! My hands are probably colder.”
“Oh, uh no… I mean yeah. But uh, it’s fine!” he stammers.
“This feels nice though. My hands are freezing!”
A confused look crosses Daichi’s face, and he realizes that he’s still holding onto your hand. He lets go of it in an instant as though he got electrocuted. His face flashes a deeper crimson, the redness of his ears spreading across his cheeks– he’s practically about to have a heart attack while you simply laugh unfazed by the physical contact.
“Ahaha! Did you have too much coffee today or something? You’re all jumpy.”
Daichi turns his head away from you and covers his face. His hand is splayed out, trying to shield your view of the blush that is taking forever to settle down. He’s still looking away as he hands you one of the coffee cups on the table. “I got your coffee. Just black right? No cream or sugar?”
“Ooh, thank you! You didn’t have to!” you take a sip and relish the smell of your favorite caffeinated beverage.
Your love-hate relationship with coffee is back to an all-time high now since you’ve been needing it every morning to get through your work days. “I’ll have to treat you to lunch sometime for all the coffee you keep on giving me!”
“No, it’s fine! I don’t mind doing this.”
“Well, I mind. What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t treat you out too!”
Friend.
She said “friend." She just sees me as a friend. Just a friend… yeah, there’s no need to ruin that…
Ikejiri’s words thunder through Daichi’s head: “I’ve always thought that the people who think confessing to the other person could be the end of their friendship are just too afraid, you know? Like if it’s such a meaningful friendship to begin with, doesn’t it take more to break it?”
“Ah, shit.” he whispers under his breath.
“What? What’d I do? Okay, I’ll get you food AND coffee next time! I owe you both, anyway.”
“Huh? No, that wasn’t for you.”
“Hm?” you look perplexed for a second, but you quickly return back to your cheery self. “Okay then,”— you flash a thumbs up at him— “it’s a date!”
Daichi doubles over his coffee, “A date?!”
“Gosh, okay! Do you want to start calling it a ‘meeting’ then? So that you don’t get in trouble with work? Ikejiri’s been telling me that your superiors are wondering why you never have lunch at your own building"– you take another sip of your coffee– "maybe you should just tell them that you have lunch meetings!”
“Oh, uh yeah… you can call it whatever.” Daichi twiddles his thumbs, “I don’t mind the word ‘date’. ” He says the last part so softly that you don’t even catch it.
“By the way, I can only stay for a little bit today. All this end-of-the-year paperwork has got me doing overtime; I thought coming in early might actually help me get it all done!” you put a small fist up in the air with a determined look in your face.
The corners of Daichi’s mouth turn upwards, “Well, you seem quite motivated.”
You let out a groan and sink into your chair, “I just can’t wait for this to be over!”
“You know we don’t have to get coffee all the time—”
“No." —you cut him off sharply, but then your face softens— “Please, I just… this is like one of the only things I still have control over, you know? I like my morning routines with you.” you sigh, eyes boring into his. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. Work is just….”
“It’s okay, it’s okay.” Daichi’s glowing like a kid being offered candy.
She said she likes morning routines with me! She said she likes it— AHH!
“Sorry, I keep on talking about work,” you shake your head trying to get out of it. You don’t notice how your friend is smiling like an idiot in love. “Tell me about you! I haven’t heard your stories in a while! How’s life? How’s work?— I mean, you don’t have to talk about work if it’s stressing you out too— How about volleyball? You always love talking about that just like Suga-san!”
Daichi’s chuckles, seeing how much you’re trying to steer the conversation away from yourself. A whisper of a smile settles on his lips as he thinks of how considerate you’re being despite how much he knows you want to rant about your job. You’ve been bogged down by the truckloads of work piling up, so he’s offered to only grab lunch with you nowadays instead of the usual early morning coffee.
You deny his offer though, and he’s absolutely ecstatic by it. Ecstatic by the thought that you choose not to get an extra hour of sleep in exchange for coffee routines. Ecstatic that you’ve carved out time from your swamped schedule to be with him.
With him! No one but him!
Maybe it is okay to tell you that I like you?
Daichi ponders on the thought while chatting with you until it was time to go back to that unfortunate place called “reality” (aka work). His head was drifting through the clouds, drunk on the moments he spends time with you.
And you? Well, when reality’s calling, you cherish coffee cups and conversation with your friend too.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°
A titter escapes your lips as you send your text. Ikejiri, whose desk is right next to yours, catches you snickering at your phone and he leans over trying to sneak a glance.
“Hmm, who you texting y/n-san?” he wiggles his eyebrows. “Your significant other? Boyfriend? Partner? Soon-to-be-partner? Hmm?”
“Huh?” you scrunch your face and put your phone away. “Go away, go back to work you slacker.”
“Oh? You just don’t want me to know then?”
You wave him off dismissively while you train your eyes back to your computer screen, “You’re talking nonsense. I have work to do and so do you.”
You ruffled-haired friend's watches you suspiciously, “Hm, okaaay then. ” and he turns back to his desk while whipping his phone out from his pocket.
Ikejiri turns to glance at you with an eyebrow raised inquisitively. He knows Daichi is head over heels for you, but he guesses it’s time to figure out what you feel too. He makes a mental checkbox to snuff out whatever intel he can get to report back on for the sake of his lovesick childhood friend.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°
It’s halfway through the evening, and the delicate glow of a half-crescent moon shines through your windows. A single table lamp luminates the living room as you lay sprawled out on your couch fast asleep.
Bzzzt. Bzzzt.
Hm?
Bzzzt. Bzzzt... Bzzzt. Bzzzt.
You raise your head up from your throw pillow and reach over the coffee table to answer your phone. A familiar moron’s name pops up on your screen, and you hit the answer button.
“Yes?”
“Hey idiot, have you gotten the candles yet?”
“Hmm?” a yawn escapes your lips. “Candles? Yeah, I’m getting them this weekend,”— another yawn comes crawling out— “along with the balloons.”
“Is that a yawn? Did you just wake up? What are you doing? Don’t go messing up your sleep schedule again!”
“Shut up. Yes, mom. Stop overreacting,” you stick your tongue out at Suga and straighten up on your couch.
“Are you sticking your tongue out at me?” he asks, “Stupid. It’s not like I can see it.”
“It’s the thought that counts,” you huff out. “You guessed right though.”
He snickers into the phone, “What can I say? I’ve been stuck with you this long; I already know what to expect!”
“Uh huh. You're not stuck. Your annoying ass is just too attached to me. Unfortunately. ”
“Hah, yeah right. It’s more like the other way around.” Suga rolls his eyes. “Anyway, I placed an order on the cake already.”
Your expression brightens, “Strawberry shortcake this year, right?!”
He chuckles, “Yes, your favorite. And Asahi’s favorite too.”
“Daichi wouldn’t mind that flavor either, would he?”
“Nah, he’s not much of a sweets person anyway.”
“Psh. He’s missing out.”
“More cake for us!” Suga replies, and you both chuckle. He looks over to the oven timer in his apartment, “Hey, I’ve gotta go. My banana muffins are almost done.”
You excitedly lean into your phone while hugging a pillow, “Ooh! Can I have some?”
“Yeah, I’ll bring some tomorrow," he shuffles to the kitchen. "But eat a proper dinner first! Taking naps after work messes you up!”
“Gosh, okay. I got it. I’m not the same workaholic college student you know?”
“Yeah, uh huh,” he crouches right next to the oven window. “And don’t get coffee with Daichi tomorrow! You need the extra sleep!”
“Yeah, yeah. I wasn’t planning on it anyway. I told him I’m dying the rest of this week and can only meet up for lunch.”
“Good.” Suga watches the muffins intently.
“Okaay, well see ya!”
“Mhm, bye-bye!”
“Don’t forget to bring the banana muffins!”
“I won’t!”
“No need to watch them too hard, haha!”
“Tch. Shut up. Bye!”
And the oven timer goes off, right on cue. Suga takes the baking pan and leaves it out on the countertop to cool off. He counts off the number of muffins he knows you’ll need after this grueling work week. They're banana chocolate chip muffins, your favorite, and he made sure to add extra chocolate chips for your sake.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°
A few nights later, Daichi and Suga return back to Suga’s apartment to have a couple of beers after their long work days. His place is just as tiny as yours, but he keeps it a little neater. Since the New Year is coming up, Suga’s virtually already finished his end-of-the-year cleaning (not that he needs much of it to begin with), and he’s already set aside time in his schedule to go over to your place to tidy up. Being a clean freak is another quirk of his. You didn’t even have to beg him to help you.
After all, the two of you are planning that surprise party on the 31st for Daichi and Asahi at your apartment. It’s honestly not a “surprise” anymore at this point, since you celebrate it every year Asahi comes back from Tokyo for the holidays. But nonetheless, it gives you a reason to celebrate the new year all together.
Suga grabs two cans of Sapporo from the fridge and he hands one to Daichi, “So what are you up to this weekend?”
Daichi cracks open the can and sits on a dining chair, “Not much. You?”
“Same.” Suga sits across from him.
“I guess, this is how it goes then. You know, work life.”
Suga snickers, “Hah, yeah I guess,” he grabs a couple of notebooks and binders from his bag and sets them on the table “But at least I’ve got ‘adult’ money now!”
Daichi snorts back a laugh and takes a drink of his beer.
Suga smirks and looks down at his notes. He takes a sip of his own can of Sapporo while preparing for his lesson plan the next day.
A comfortable silence floats in the air while he works, and Daichi ends up staring at the bookcase behind him. It’s a short white shelf housing several of Suga’s favorite novels, but what catches Daichi’s eye is one of the picture frames sitting atop: it’s a photo of all four of you on graduation day. Suga and you were in your jet black robes, diplomas at hand and pink cherry blossoms dancing in the background. Daichi couldn’t help but admire the memory, a gentle smile gracing his features as he sees your face in glee.
Suga, on the other hand, was busy being the overachieving teacher that he is who still manages to bring some work back home. He often complains about the kids, but he actually enjoys teaching them the best way he can. He’s intently jotting notes down while refining his lesson plan when Daichi interrupts him.
“So uh, Suga?”
His laborious friend continues on and doesn’t look up, “Hm?”
“I’m uhh… I’m thinking of confessing to y/n on my birthday.” he drums his fingers nervously around his beer can, “What do you think?”
Suga continues to diligently review his papers and nods in agreement, “Sounds good to me,” he says absentmindedly while scribbling across his notes. It’s not too long before he slowly metabolizes Daichi’s words. “WAIT, WHAT? ” Suga whips his head up and exclaims.
“Yeah. I finally figured out why I’m such a jittery mess around her all the time,” he smiles and reminisces while still looking at the photo. “I like her, Suga. I really do .”
Suga’s stomach clenches a little, a small knot forming. A sudden weight starts to ride his shoulders.
Daichi looks at him, “What do you think? I mean, it won’t be too out-of-the-blue, right? We have been spending more time alone together, and it just... I don’t know. It just… it feels nice.” he sighs.
Suga watches Daichi’s eyes sparkle, and he can see how much his best friend cares about you. It almost made him happy.
Almost.
Because with that happiness, also came a new and weird feeling. A surprising and unfamiliar emotion. He doesn’t understand it, so he quickly tucks it away.
A faint smile struggles to come out, “I’m happy for you, Daichi. I hope... she feels the same way.” the knot in Suga’s stomach clenches a little tighter. He wonders whether he ate something spoiled earlier.
Daichi drinks the rest of his beer, “Well, I better head out now. It’s getting late.” he rises from his seat and throws his can into the recycling. “Thanks for tonight, Suga. I feel better knowing that you approve.”
Suga tilts his head to the side and looks at him questioningly, “Approve?”
“Yeah. Approve.” Daichi nods, “I mean, you’re practically one of y/n’s closest friends! Like a brother! No wait, sometimes a mom!” he guffaws and throws his head back. “You two are together all the time, I knew I needed your ‘blessing’ or something.”
Suga chuckles half-heartedly, still unsure why those words were itching at him. The words: ‘friend’, ‘brother’, ‘mom’ (wtf, Daichi).
He trains his eyes back to his lesson plan, words slowly getting muddled up in his brain, "Yeah, yeah. Okay.” Suga waves Daichi off, “Get outta here. I still have so much to go through.”
And with that, Daichi greets him good night and exits through the door, leaving a distracted Suga trying to stare intently at his work.
None of the words were making sense anymore, though.
a/n: I’ve been sooo slow in posting these— my bad! If you’re actually following along with this series, you can read the full thing on ao3 here!
Rereading this makes me smile on how far I’ve come, but also how much I am still the same writer who likes writing that moment where characters are on the precipice of realizing something— ha! Might have to capture that feeling again in future works!
summary: What happens when the school heartthrob ends up adopting introverted little you just trying to mind your own business? It’s Gojo, Satoru— of course, it’s going to be chaotic.
tags: high school, introverted reader, gojo is a figure skater and you’re a hockey player, fluff, slight angst if you squint, gojo is literally fighting for crumbs of a text msg
<<part 2
series list
⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹⊹₊˚‧
You chuckle as you look down at your phone in class and quickly cover your mouth. Eyes alarmed and hoping no one saw as you scan the room. People are walking through the sliding door, groups are clustered and chatting in the far corners, no one’s giving you a funny stare—
Oh thank god.
A picture of Toru posing with Suguru comes across your phone and you smile. His cerulean eyes pierce through the camera, making your heart thunder dangerously.
It’s that cheeky smile of his.
The cute little dimples on his cheeks.
The frost white hair with long lashes to match.
How fucking unfair of him to capture your heart like this.
Toru: wish me luck!!
You: you’ll do great like always, Toru-kun.
⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹⊹₊˚‧
“I’m ba-ack!” a melodious voice sings with his arms stretched out as wide as the sidewalk you’re standing on.
A curve of a smile plays with your lips as you approach him near the gates of the school.
Toru grins back while dangling the gold medal around his neck like the obnoxious little shit that he is. “Guess what?” he waggles his brows.
“Gold again?” you beat him right to it.
“Yes! Just as usual!” he hangs his medal around your neck, making you raise a brow. “And I came home with one more thing…”
He fishes for something in his pants pocket and your brows arch further. Before you even know it, a hand comes inches from your face and stops right in between your eyes.
Your eyes flutter, perplexed, until your vision refocuses and see Toru’s thumbs shaped into a little heart.
“I like you!”
Your ears burst forth, flowers sprouting out of them.
What in the— is Satoru honestly just— wait, what?
Mouth askew, jaw to the floor, you grab his wrist and drag him to the treeline of the nearby park. Feet crunching on the grass as he laughs in your wake, “What? Do I get a kiss for bringing gold?” he pokes at the medal hanging from your neck as you stop underneath a tree branch.
Waves of warmth bloom throughout your chest and squeeze you further. The blades of grass suddenly look more interesting— more interesting than the weight of his gaze sweeping over you.
“Toru-kun… stop joking—“
“But I’m not!”
You let go of his wrist like you’ve been zapped, but his fingertips graze your knuckles hesitantly.
Hoping, wishing, wanting you to never let go.
“I mean it.” he repeats.
The teasing nature long gone.
“Whole-heartedly,” he gently blankets your hands with his, cerulean eyes watching and testing your reaction.
You raise your head.
“I…”
Inhale. Exhale.
“I like you too.”
And his pupils blow wide— straight heart eyes drilling into yours as he squeezes your hands.
“Congrats on your win, Toru,” you comb your fingers through his, sliding through the seams.
“I’m so proud of you,” you reach up on your tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek.
⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹⊹₊˚‧
“We’re official!!” he yells to no one in particular as he hauls you through the school gates.
In horrified shock, you attempt to yank your hand out of his firm grasp, but he just tightens his hold.
“Toru-kun, oh my god…”
“Nice win, Gojo,” someone claps him on the back.
“Wait, who is that?”
“Oh, she’s that hockey girl he’s been hanging around with lately.”
That hockey girl.
That’s all you’re reduced to sometimes.
You stare at your feet as Toru-kun waves one of your arms up, “Suguru, look!” he squeezes your hand as he keeps waving it like a flag in the air.
“Keep it down, Satoru,” he drags Toru’s arms down, careful not to jolt your own arm out of its socket. “You’re making her uncomfortable, can’t you see?”
Your eyes meet his in surprise.
He juts a thumb out to point at Toru-kun, “You should be bullying him back too, you know.”
Toru-kun pulls you into a hug and smothers your face into his chest, “Oh I’m sorry, baby! Am I being too forward about this?” he croons.
“You still are, you asshole,” Geto-kun wrenches you free, as you struggle to catch your breath.
Geto massages his temples as he looks up at the sky and sighs, “Now I have to keep a better watch of him in case he accidentally hurts you— great.”
Gojo throws his arms around your neck from behind. His head rests on your shoulder as his breath tickles your neck, “Oh no you don’t! She’s mine, Suguru. All mine!”
Red hot steam whistles out of your ears.
Geto rolls his eyes. “I’m not interested, dumbass,” his eyes suddenly flash to yours, softening. “No offense,” he reassures you.
“None taken,” you speak softly.
Toru-kun squeals as he hears you, squeezing you further.
You place your hands on his forearms and gently untangle yourself out of his hold. “Also…” Toru-kun blinks prettily at you, hanging onto your every word.
“Can you let me get used to this first, Toru? I… I feel a little shy, so…”
Toru-kun suddenly takes three steps away from you, like a body guard waiting at your heel. He keeps his cheeky smile, blinding you from a distance, and you chuckle.
“Oh god,” Geto-kun groans. “He’s gonna be even more annoying, won’t he?”
a/n: I’m more used to writing slow burns, but for this story— nah. I wanted a whirlwind type of romance for this one. Enjoy!
summary: the childhood friend to lover to K-pop idol pipeline is limited— but not for the future members of huntrix and the saja boys!
tags: childhood friends to lovers, k-pop training woes, baby and romance saja + mira make an appearance, comfort fic
“Jinu! Jinu! Look at me!” a sprightly girl with purple braids yells from above. She hangs upside down on the monkey bars and swings back and forth with her hands stretching down towards the ground.
Giggles fill the air as a little boy with bowl-cut hair approaches with a long tree branch at hand. The sneaky glimmer in his eyes makes the girl scream in glee as she narrowly avoids his playful jabs at her.
“Take that, you piñata!”
“Ow! Ow! Stop ittt!” Rumi laughs. She expertly flips forward and lands on the ground with a huff. With a violet strand down her face, she looks up at the boy, determination in her irises.
“I’m coming to get you!” she yells and the boy shrieks, heading deeper into the playground. His wooden branch swinging wildly as the birds sing and the clouds waver in the air.
⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖
“Still can’t catch me, I see,” a honey-laden voice drips into Rumi’s ear as she grabs her chips from the vending machine. Her slumped figure is a touch annoyed at his teasing words, especially after those horrid monthly eval sessions at their talent agency.
“Watch it, Jinu,” she rolls her eyes at him and crosses her arms. “Just cause you got ranked first for evaluations this month doesn’t mean you can’t be knocked down.” Rumi’s slick braid cascades against her back and nearly whacks him in the face as she turns away.
“Woah, hey!” Jinu backbends comically as he narrowly avoids the whip of her hair. “It’s not like we’re even ranked against each other—”
“Doesn’t matter! You’re number one among the guys and I’m…” she sighs as she looks back at him with a pout forming.
Jinu raises her chin up with a gentle nudge of his hand.
“Hey.”
Rumi’s big brown eyes catch his soft gaze.
The honey in his voice feeling like sweet serenity.
She practically melts at the warmth of his fingertips.
“You’ll make your way to the pre-debut group soon too— I know it.”
Hushed whispers come from around the corner of the hallway.
“Do you see that?! He’s so down bad for her, he literally almost got bitch-slapped by her braid and yet he’s acting like this!” Baby Saja fumes, fists clenched tightly at his sides.
Romance drapes his figure over him, chin resting on his shoulder with an amicable grin, “Chill, Baby! We all know Jinu’s a big teddy bear at heart,” he drawls as his cheek lies on Baby’s shoulder.
“Tsk. They should keep this out of the studio,” Baby huffs indignantly.
Romance pokes his cheeks and chuckles, “Aww, you’re such a cute little hater!”
Baby shrugs him off, ears beet red and steaming, “Shutup!” he whisper-yells as he shuffles away.
Romance trails behind him, strolling giddily as he tucks a pink strand behind his ear, “Hmm… who next?” he saunters down the hall, heart eyes searching for his next victi— “Ooh! My favorite!” just as Mira turns the corner and catches sight of him.
“Oh no, not you…” she does a complete 180 and speedwalks back.
“Mira, baby! I’ve missed you!”
a/n: this is my first time posting in the kpdh fandom, and i wanted to challenge myself by responding to the "in another world" prompt for this flash weekend! thank u @rujinucafe for hosting!
alsooo, i secretly have a whole kpdh long fic sequel to the movie that i started last year, and i just wanted to revisit this fandom again!
summary: What happens when the school heartthrob ends up adopting introverted little you just trying to mind your own business? It’s Gojo, Satoru— of course, it’s going to be chaotic.
tags: high school, introverted reader, gojo is a figure skater and you’re a hockey player, fluff, slight angst if you squint
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
a/n: so I got the idea for this fic on my walk home, and it’s a longer fic than anticipated, so it’ll definitely have more parts! funny how I just started writing it, unsure of which character to base it on, but then gojo, satoru called (it must be all the hockey!gojo fics I’ve been consuming lately haha)
summary: What happens when the school heartthrob ends up adopting introverted little you just trying to mind your own business? It’s Gojo, Satoru— of course, it’s going to be chaotic.
tags: high school, introverted reader, gojo is a figure skater and you’re a hockey player, fluff, slight angst if you squint
<<part 1
>>part 3
series list
Toru stormed into your life like a hail storm.
Just flat out knocked you out of the park with his million dollar smile agreeing to share the ice with you that very first day you decided you needed extra practice.
He was positively ethereal back then.
But you tried to pay it no mind, because you came to do your business: level up during the pre-season so that you finally get yourself out of the bench and in the starting line-up.
It was a long way ahead for you.
You start the mornings with agility training and end the nights with conditioning in the weight room, day in and day out.
But what makes the grueling days worth it is seeing him skate. That artistic, soft kind of skating that’s a nice break from the rough and tough, swashbuckling dance you do with your hockey and puck. You were all the shoving and downright wrestling, and none of his mesmerizing grace that makes your heart float on air.
Toru-kun didn’t bother you when you were drilling in the morning, but that separation’s gone once you step off the ice.
It started with nagging you all the way to your homeroom, asking to copy the day’s homework even though he was in a different class. Sometimes it was finding you during lunch and stealing your food whenever he could get away with it. He even manages to catch you on the way to cram school on some evenings and pesters you all the way to your building.
That pretty idiot is relentless.
“Y/n-chaaaann, join me for lunch today?” he sing-songs as he enters the classroom. His gangly figure hovers above your desk as he tugs down his sunglasses to flash you a smirk.
One of your classmates falls to the floor with a hand against her heart. Another audibly squeals and shoves you by the shoulder, making you look up.
“No.”
“Aww, why not?” he pouts, batting his lashes.
“Because you steal my food all the time!”
“Oh, but don’t you just give it to me anyway?”
“Yeah, cause you won’t stop bothering me if I don’t,” you frown.
He claps his hands together, “So then it’s not stealing!” he grins. His long white lashes still fluttering prettily at you.
Arrgh.
You grab your lunch bag and start heading to the door while Satoru trails behind you. “Where to, today?” you ask gruffly while hiding your reddening ears with your hair.
Toru-kun skips giddily as he slides the door open for you, “The usual spot, of course!” and you get lugged down the hallway with his arm threaded through yours while a small crowd parts for the two of you.
You stare straight down at the floor as you fiddle with your hair, attempting to half cover your face. It doesn’t help that he’s practically the school’s number one “it” boy. Everyone’s dazzled by the very presence of him, antics included.
And you just happen to be one of them.
The antics, you mean.
Reserved, hockey girl like you being friends with the boy who can cause earthquakes that ripple into people’s hearts?
Nah, that can’t be real.
Shoulders drooping as you climb the steps up to the rooftop.
You wonder when the day will come when he finally gets tired of you and switches to his next hyper-fixation.
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“Do you think I said something?” Gojo asks Geto as they stretch out on the ice. They each had one leg up, resting on the half wall while they bend over the side, fingertips almost touching their skates.
“I don’t know,” Geto replies while switching to the other side. “You always say something.”
If eye rolls could do backflips in your sockets, Gojo’s eyes would’ve gone twice.
“Tch, shutup.”
“You asked a question and I answered,” Geto shrugs as he takes off and skates to the middle of the rink.
“Wait! I’m not done yet!” Gojo chases after him as he starts doing his routine— he carves across the ice in swishes and flows, followed by Gojo’s mimicry of his steps, making it look like a pair dancing out of heaven.
“She was all sad at lunch time, just staring at the sky, and she wasn’t reacting to anything I’d say,” he pouts as he slows to a stop while Geto spins in place, lifting his leg up and arching back as he holds the blade of one of his skates. “Do you think I’m not giving her enough attention?”
Geto straightens and starts criss-crossing into a grapevine near the edge of the rink. Gojo glides two steps behind him, keeping his pace.
“You spend every morning with her at the rink; follow her around everywhere at school; and even outside of school too with that one night you walked her to cram school!” he exasperatedly says as both him and Gojo jump up and do the splits while skating backwards.
“I’d say you’re actually more of a stalker.”
Gojo loses his footing and nearly trips with a flabbergasted nostrils flaring, “I am not!” he yelps as he catches up to Geto at the other end of the rink and they start doing a synchronized jump sequence. Their turns in the air are enough to rattle any regular person’s insides, but for these two, they just end up with a strand out of place or a critique out of their lips even though they basically did it perfectly.
“Yeah you are,” Geto says in a clipped tone. “She probably just thinks your fucking with her until you move onto the next person—”
SHHHHHHK.
Gojo suddenly stops mid-skate right in front of his friend, keeping him from skating any further. “I WOULD NEVER!!” his loud booming voice echoes against the rink’s walls.
Geto blinks ever so slowly while massaging his poor ears.
“Then just tell her you like her.”
“I already have!”
Geto puts his hands on his hips and tilts his head in question.
Gojo starts counting off on his fingers, “I gave her her favorite melon-pan flavor the other day; handed back her homework with a heart sticky note attached to it… I even carried her gym bag and hockey stick for her all the way to the train station the other night!”
Geto narrows his eyes at his piss poor best friend who has the observational skills of a distracted driver. He starts counting off his fingers:
“One: there is literally just one kind of melon-pan for sale at the cafeteria.”
“Two: your heart note literally said ‘Thanks for letting me borrow! Can I borrow math later too?’”
“I do not sound like that!” Gojo whines.
“And three: you stole her stuff and made her run blocks after you before you finally gave it back,” he folds his arms in front of his chest with that pointed look.
“Those were all acts of love! I was giving her attention!”
“Not everyone likes receiving love the way you do, Satoru.”
“But—”
“And!” Geto cuts him off before his annoying pouty face comes on, “literally only one thing out of those acts isn’t bullying. Your ‘acts of love’ are dogshit.”
Gojo’s mouth forms an “O” with his hands bracing his chest in silent shock.
“For someone with your face, you could at least tell her how you actually feel.”
“Fine! I’ll tell her when I win Grand Prix de France next week so that she kisses me ‘congratulations’!”
Geto’s face is a blur of sheer annoyance and competitive edge, “You asshole,” he spats.
“I’ll make sure silver is reserved just for you!” he blows Geto a kiss as he skates off and restarts his routine.
a/n: this chapter ended up way longer than expected, but I kinda liked attempting to write gojo’s unserious (yet talented) ass being able to just copy geto’s routine like it’s nothing— it feels canon with his personality to just be good at everything with barely any effort. Anywaaaayss, I can’t wait to see how this story ends up! (haha can you tell I’m writing this with barely a clear plan in mind?)
summary: What happens when the school heartthrob ends up adopting introverted little you just trying to mind your own business? It’s Gojo, Satoru— of course, it’s going to be chaotic.
tags: high school, introverted reader, gojo is a figure skater and you’re a hockey player, fluff, slight angst if you squint
>>part 2
series list
Stretching out your fingers, you try to grab the sky above you. The individual puffs of white clouds begging to be picked at. The wind swishing against your palm, and the feel of the plush grass against your skin.
A perfect spring day to be gazing at the cerulean skies.
Cerulean just like his eyes.
The one you can never quite seem to forget.
Gojo, Satoru.
⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹⊹₊˚‧
Toru-kun was the menace your heart never intended to love.
He’s the type of who plasters your heart open with thick goo and threatens to never release it.
The one who kidnaps your mind and tells you “you’re mine.”
It still makes you laugh out of your nostrils remembering how he was back then when you were just kids— bratty, beautiful and dangerous.
The kind of boy your mom would tell you to stay away from if it wasn’t for her own infatuation of him.
That was back in high school when you unfortunately met him— the shining golden boy who piqued your interest at first glance.
I mean… how could he not?
With a magnetic smile, compelling eyes, and the chaotically charming personality to match, anyone would fall for him.
But what really caught you off guard was how he glided on the ice. Silky smooth, swivels and turns. He floated on air whenever you watched him.
You’d think the loud boy everyone knew would be hockey captain with washboard abs to match, but no.
Gojo, Satoru was the most delicately pristine figure skater you’ve ever seen grace the ice.
And then there was you.
Hair mussed up and sweaty— stuck to your forehead as you take off your helmet to watch him. The hockey puck you were fiddling with was the only thing keeping you grounded as he spins into a graceful tornado sucking you into a trance.
Wow, he’s so pretty.
“I know right? He’s so annoyingly perfect, he breaks all my records, and I don’t even get a day to celebrate being number one!” another figure skater stands right next to you at the edge of the ice. Raven hair pulled back in a sleek half-bun and a longing smile trained at Toru-kun.
“Geto, Suguru,” he extends a hand as he looks back to face you. “I assume you’re the hockey player who’s been coming in early the past month?”
Your brows twitch as you gingerly shake his hand, “How do you know that?”
He chuckles as he gives your hand a squeeze, “Satoru’s been bitching about you— he hates how he can’t have all of the ice once you set up your drills.”
Your ears flare, heat creeping up your neck. “Oh. My bad. I thought it was open skate time, I didn’t know he had it reserved—“
“I don’t have it reserved, darling. I’m just being whiny, that’s all,” Toru-kun suddenly materializes right in front of you two. Dazzling with sweat lining his forehead as he steps off the ice and starts attaching his skate guards.
“Toru-kun…”
Geto quirks a brow and whistles, “First name basis already?”
Your shoulders sag as a flicker of annoyance passes through you, “He made me use that name.”
“She’s been dying to call me that,” Toru smirks simultaneously.
A raucous laughter hits your ears as Geto doubles over, joined by Toru’s bitch-ass giving him a high-five.
Your shoulders sink even further like you’re burdened with a thousand paper cuts raining down on you. The patience to deal with these two might just zap out all your energy in the morning, and so you walk away without a single word.
“Aww! She’s leaving! Go make up with her, she’s cute!”
The red flaring in your ears returns as your foot stutters to take the next step.
“I know right! I love sharing ice time with my little hockey player!”
You can feel yourself about to tumble over your skates, but thankfully the door to the locker room is within your reach. You hurriedly step through and shut it behind you, clutching your hockey stick to your chest as you continue to hear their laughs through the doorway.
My hockey player?
My?!?!
“This is gonna be a long season…” you mutter under your breath, as you sink to the ground, back against the door. You fight to wash off the subtle smile tickling the corners of your mouth, but it’s no use.
You’ve got it bad.
a/n: so I got the idea for this fic on my walk home, and it’s a longer fic than anticipated, so it’ll definitely have more parts! funny how I just started writing it, unsure of which character to base it on, but then gojo, satoru called (it must be all the hockey!gojo fics I’ve been consuming lately haha)
kamasaki was in the middle of a heated argument with futakuchi about “proper form” when he saw you. you were a student from the nearby vocational school, carrying a heavy-duty toolbox toward the workshop.
you weren’t struggling, exactly, but the way your muscles tensed under the weight—and the way you wiped grease off your forehead with the back of a gloved hand—made kamasaki’s heart lurch like a failing engine. he’d never seen anything so beautiful. you were a vision of industrial perfection. when you caught him staring and gave a confident, slightly crooked grin, kamasaki felt his knees turn into jelly.
“give me that!” he shouted, lunging forward to grab the toolbox. his face was beet red, but his eyes were fixated on yours with a raw, desperate intensity. “it’s too heavy! no—i mean, you’re strong, but i’m stronger! please, just let me carry this to the ends of the earth for you. also, i think i’m in love with you. is that too much? okay, fine, let’s start with coffee. please say yes, i’m actually shaking right now.”
former #2 moniwa kaname
moniwa was trying to herd his chaotic teammates toward the bus when he saw you sitting on a low wall, patiently untangling a bird’s wing from some discarded fishing line. you were murmuring softly to the creature, your expression so tender and peaceful that moniwa felt a physical ache in his chest.
he forgot about the bus. he forgot about the tournament. the world narrowed down to the gentle curve of your shoulders and the kindness in your eyes. when the bird flew away and you looked up at him, eyes shimmering with joy, moniwa felt like he was finally breathing for the first time. you thought he looked like a reliable, sweet guy, and you offered him a small, encouraging wave.
“that was... the most incredible thing i’ve ever seen,” moniwa breathed, stepping closer as if drawn by a magnet. his hands were tucked into his pockets to hide how much they were trembling. “i know this is crazy, but you have the kindest eyes. i’d be a fool if i let you walk away without asking... could i please take you on a date? i want to be the one who makes you smile like that every single day.”
former #3 sasaya takehito
sasaya was at the bakery, waiting for his order, when you walked in. you were dressed in a oversized sweater, looking sleepy and soft, and you accidentally ordered your bread in a voice so soft and sweet it made his pulse spike.
he watched you fumble with your change, dropping a coin that rolled right to his shoe. he picked it up, and when he handed it back, your fingers brushed. it was like a low-voltage shock. you looked up, your eyes wide and a bit dazed, and sasaya felt his cool, laid-back exterior melt away. he was suddenly, violently aware of how much he wanted to protect that sleepy look on your face forever.
“you dropped this,” he said, his voice lower and more serious than usual. he didn’t let go of the coin immediately, locking eyes with you. “and i think you accidentally took my heart with it. i’m not usually this forward, but you’re... breathtaking. please, let me pay for your bread. and let me take you out properly. i have a feeling i’m going to be thinking about you for the next fifty years anyway.”
#1 aone takanobu
aone was standing in the hallway, looking intimidating as usual, until you walked by. you were a bit shorter than him, carrying a stack of library books. instead of flinching or walking around him, you stopped, looked up his towering frame, and handed him a single wildflower you’d found outside.
“you look like you’re guarding something important,” you said with a bright laugh.
aone didn’t move. he didn’t speak. he just stared at the tiny flower in his massive hand, then at you. his heart was hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. he felt an overwhelming, soul-deep need to follow you. he walked after you, his shadow looming over you, until he finally reached out and gently touched your sleeve.
he didn’t say anything at first. he just bowed—a full, ninety-degree, formal bow. then, he looked up, his eyes wide and brimming with a terrifyingly sweet sincerity. he pointed to the flower, then to his chest, and then to the exit of the school. his face was stoic, but his ears were bright red. he was asking for a date with every fiber of his being, and when you giggled and nodded, he felt like he could lift the entire building.
#2 futakuchi kenji
futakuchi was leaning against a vending machine, feeling himself, until you walked by. you were arguing with a friend about the best way to bypass a firewall on a laptop, and your sharp wit and fierce intelligence made futakuchi’s mouth go dry.
he tried to pull his usual smug smirk, but when you glanced at him with a bored, unimpressed expression, his heart did a complete 180. he was hooked. he was almost drooling. he wanted you to look at him like that forever, but maybe with a little more love. he followed you, his cool-guy walk becoming a bit more frantic.
“hey, wait!” he called out, his voice cracking just a tiny bit—a rare moment of weakness. he caught up to you, looking down with a gaze that was uncharacteristically soft and full of yearning. “you’re scarily smart. and i’m... suddenly very interested in whatever you’re talking about. actually, i’m just interested in you. give me a chance? i promise i’m more than just a pretty face. let me buy you a drink and you can tell me how wrong i am about everything. and maybe degrade me a little.”
#3 obara yutaka
obara was trying to drink a carton of milk while walking when he saw you. you were sitting under a tree, reading a book on mechanical engineering, looking so focused and beautiful that he missed his straw and ended up spilling milk all over his chin.
you looked up, saw the mess, and immediately pulled a tissue from your bag, walking over to help him. “are you okay?” you asked, dabbing at his face. obara felt like he was floating in space. the proximity was too much; the scent of your shampoo was like a drug. he felt his brain stall.
“i’m a mess,” he blurted out, staring at you with pure, unadulterated adoration. “i’m a total disaster, but you’re... you’re gorgeous. i can’t believe you’re real. please, don’t stop looking at me. can i take you to lunch? i’ll try not to spill anything on myself next time, i promise. i just... i really need to see you again.”
#7 koganegawa kanji
kogane was practicing his sets in the gym when a stray ball went out the window. he ran out to get it and saw you catching it in the courtyard. you threw it back with a perfect spiral, your hair blowing behind you and a competitive glint in your eye.
kogane was finished. his heart detonated. he sprinted over to you, stopping inches from your face, his eyes sparkling with a level of energy that was borderline concerning. you laughed, totally charmed by his giant, enthusiastic energy.
“YOU’RE SO COOL!” he yelled, then immediately covered his mouth, blushing. “i mean—wow. you’re amazing. your form was perfect! i think i’m in love with you! can we be together? wait, that’s too fast. can we go on a date? i’ll buy you the biggest ice cream in the city! please! i’ve never felt this ‘zing’ before but it’s happening right now!”
#8 onagawa tarō
onagawa was leaning against the wall, mentally critiquing fashion violations, until he saw you. you were a mess of paint-stained fabric and measuring tapes, looking frantic yet beautiful. his internal monologue died instantly, replaced by a heartbeat that felt like a club remix. he didn’t care about “perfect” style anymore; he just cared about you.
onagawa knelt to retrieve a dropped pin near your shoe, his eyes scanning your face with desperate intensity. “i’ve spent all day looking at people and seeing nothing,” he whispered, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “but looking at you, i’m seeing everything. i’m onagawa tarō, and i’m losing my mind over you. let me help you carry this, and then let me buy you some takoyaki? i think i’ve been waiting for you my whole life."
#11 fukiage jingo
fukiage was used to being the background guy, the silent support. then he saw you. you were the new assistant for the shop class, methodically cleaning the tools with a look of peaceful satisfaction.
he watched the way you handled the equipment with respect. he felt a deep, grounding pull in his gut. it wasn’t a flash of lightning; it was the feeling of coming home. you looked up and offered him a shy, sweet smile, acknowledging his presence in a way that made him feel seen.
he walked over, his large frame casting a shadow over the workbench. he didn’t say much, but the way he looked at you was heavy with devotion. “you’re doing a good job,” he rumbled softly. “and you... you’re very beautiful. i don’t say much, but i’d like to say things to you. will you go to the festival with me? i’d really like the chance to be the one you smile at.”
#13 sakunami kosuke
sakunami was trying to reach a high shelf in the equipment room when you walked in. you saw him struggling, smiled softly, and used a nearby stool to grab the item for him.
“here you go,” you said, your voice like sugar.
sakunami felt his entire world turn upside down. you were so kind, so observant, and so gorgeous that he felt his chest tighten. he wanted to be big for you; he wanted to be your hero. he took the item, his face burning, and looked at you with a sincerity that was almost painful.
“thank you,” he whispered, his eyes locked on yours. “you’re... you’re really amazing. i can’t stop looking at you. i know i’m not the biggest guy, but i promise i’ll look out for you if you give me a chance. could i... could i take you for a walk? i just really don’t want this moment to end.”
→ the taxi’s next route is to fukurodani academy, get in!
n: futakuchi reacts like that, trust me. AND I FUCKING HATE TUMBLR, I KEEP UPLOADING SHIT WITHOUT EDITING WSYDEFGRYFED
summary: Unfamiliar new faces come and go. And so do feelings. How do you know what you're supposed to do with them? How do you know if it will last?
<<previous chapter
>>next chapter
series list
Autumn’s warm hues greet you again as you step out of the restaurant. It’s a relatively chilly day, but the scarf around your neck and relaxed overcoat you’re wearing are enough to keep you warm. You wave goodbye to Ikejiri and Daichi who had other plans for the day, while Suga tags along with you for the afternoon. It’s an errand day, and you’re on a shopping quest to the sports store to get some new running shoes. You’ve put this off for so long and after seeing today’s volleyball game with everyone, it made you want to put more energy into the hobbies you do.
The afternoon sun is lounging high up in the sky as you walk along the shop-lined streets with Suga. Fall is dancing in the air, and everyone’s wearing an extra layer of warmth. You tuck your hands into your coat pockets, trying to heat them up.
“So, sports store, right? Which one are we heading to? I’m thinking of getting something too.”
You take out one hand and open up your phone. “Yeah, I’m looking it up. I think we’re close.” you reply. Your cold fingers brush across the screen and zoom in on your tiny hand held map. One look and you see that you should take the next turn after crossing the street. You glance up, and the crosswalk sign turns green. You’re about to take a step until Suga quickly pulls your arm back, almost making you drop your phone.
“Oi! Ow, what the hell?”— a bike suddenly rushes into view, a mere few inches away— a sudden inhale fills your throat. You definitely would’ve been roadkill if not for Suga’s quick reflexes.
“Watch where you’re going, moron. Put the phone away when you’re crossing the street. You’re distracted enough as it is without that in your hand.” he chastises you.
You tuck your phone back into your coat, “Okay, okay. Thanks, Suga-chan. I owe you one!” you chirp at him as you both start crossing the street.
“You always owe me one.”
“No, I don’t!”
“How many times do you think you’d be dead by now if it weren’t for me?”
“I don’t know… like five times? Six maybe?
“No! More like sixty-seven!” Suga retorts back at you.
“Tch. Yeah right.” you roll your eyes and shake your head, trying to deny such a claim (he’s probably right, though).
As you continue down the shop-lined street, racks of athletic wear and posters advertising the season’s bargains slowly come into view. The bright red neon store sign above the shop gleams as it catches a few sun rays. You’ve made it to your destination: the nearest sports store to the restaurant you just ate at with everyone. Peering through the large glass window, you immediately spot the rows of running shoes lining the back wall calling out your name. You rush in, making a beeline for it, and stop to stare at the selection.
There’s a number of running shoes sitting on the racks– shoes in a variety of colors, designs and sizes stretching from wall to wall. Although you run leisurely, you’ve never really paid much attention to what type of footwear you’re supposed to be wearing.
“Hello! Are you looking for something in particular, today?” a store employee calls out to you. She has chin-length glossy black hair with side-swept bangs. A beauty mark sits right by the corner of her mouth and dimples dot her upper cheeks as she flashes a bright smile that both blinds and charms you.
Wow, she’s SO pretty. She’s one of those effortlessly beautiful people that you naturally feel too shy to talk to, and you blink a little dazed.
You look back at the wall of shoes, “Oh, I’m just getting a new pair of running shoes today.” you squeak out.
“Is there a certain brand you’re looking for?”
“Um, I’m not sure. I kind of just use whatever shoes I have laying around since I haven’t been too serious about it...”– you scratch your head and give a sideways glance to her– “Though, I do feel like I should invest in a better pair!”
Her smile radiates through and you feel embarrassingly starstruck, “How about let’s take a look at these…”
She goes through various pairs and gives you a couple of them to try on. She seems to know a lot about running as she talks about what kind of shoes work best for your preferences. Her warm personality flows out in waves, eventually dissipating any last hints of nervousness you were carrying at first.
Another customer calls out to her, and she tells you to come get her if you need anything. While nodding, you thank her for all the help so far and make your way to the metal bench in the middle of the aisle. You slide your feet into a pair and walk around for a bit, acquainting yourself with each shoe and wiggling your toes to feel the comfort.
Suga pops his head out from one of the aisles and dangles two duffle bags, one in each hand. “Y/n-chaann, which one?” he sing-songs to you.
You walk over to him and inspect the two. One of them is like his current sports bag, a simple black duffel rounded at the edges, while the other is the exact same kind, just in light gray.
“Hm, I’m not sure…”
“Okay, here. Take this.” Suga hands you the black duffel and slings the gray one across his body. You look at him questioningly as he proceeds to one side of the aisle. He starts to saunter down while exaggeratedly swaying his hips side to side, and when he gets to the end he pauses to turn around and look at his only audience. You start to laugh. Suga being his occasional flamboyant self that you’ve come to know the past few years strikes a pose as though he’s a model on the runway. His silliness makes you erupt in laughter. With one arm on his hips, he switches to the other and juts his hip to one side before eventually sashaying back to you.
“Ahaha! Okay, okay. Next one.”— you hand him the black duffel this time.
This second strut down the aisle makes you cackle even louder as he attempts being his true extra self in more ways than one. Suga would be the type who practices his model face in front of a mirror, and you just laugh at the thought of it. It doesn’t even register with you that you’re slowly turning into one of those public nuisances in the store, like a pair of teens causing commotion without buying anything yet.
The same lovely store employee you were crushing on at first sight comes back to check on you, but then her direction turns straight to your faux model best friend who's still striking a pose or two. “Sugawara? Is that you?”
Suga turns his head, recognizing the voice, “Shimizu?”
Shimizu’s eyes light up as she steps towards the two of you, “Sugawara, it’s been so long!”
Suga straightens up from his pose and laughs a little at the spectacle he’s been putting on. “It has been! How are you?”
“Oh, nothing much. I work here now.” she gestures around the store and gets a glimpse of you again. “Oh right! How are the shoes fitting? Do you need another size?”
“Uh, I’m okay! Thank you.”– you stare back and forth at the two– “Wait, so you know each other?”
Shimizu giggles “We went to the same high school.”
“Yeah! Shimizu was our team manager!”
“Haha, yeah those were fun days! How are you? How is Daichi and Asahi?”– she wipes a stray strand of hair away from her face and you notice a sparkle sitting around her finger– “I’ll have to tell Ryu that I saw you today!”
“I’m doing good! Just working as a teacher now, and Daichi and Asahi are doin– wait. Ryu? You mean Tanaka? Are you two close now or something?” he laughs incredulously, remembering his kouhai’s lovesick tendencies.
She giggles some more, her eyes squinting in amusement. Shimizu raises a hand and shows off her engagement ring. “Yes. We’re engaged.”
A brief moment of silence ensues as you watch Suga’s jaw drop to the floor.
“HAH?” Suga’s eyes went round, and it could’ve flown out of its sockets. You snort at his bug-eyed demeanor and Shimizu joins in with a titter.
“Yes. We’re engaged. We’re getting married pretty soon actually. We’ll definitely have to send you all an invitation!” she looks over to you and smiles. “And don’t worry! You’ll be able to bring a plus-one too so that your cute girlfriend can come.”
Suga snaps out of his shocked state and his face deadpans. Your expression is just as blank as his as you try to process. The two of you simultaneously tilt your heads in confusion, like you’re part of some cheesy sitcom, and it makes Shimizu chuckle.
You glance at Suga, “Wait, I didn’t know you had a girlfriend?”
“I didn’t know I had one either.”
The corners of Shimizu’s eyes crinkle even more as she tries to hide a laugh, “Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed! You two seemed so close earlier when you were trying on things.”
Another confused silence fills the air while you and Suga slowly piece things together.
“Wait, why are you saying sorry...?” Suga starts.
“Huh? You assumed?” you ask.
“I don’t have a girlfriend. Unless, you meant–” Suga trails off.
“Did you think... me and him are dating?!” you exclaim at the same time.
You slowly turn your head towards Suga and he does the same. “AHAHAHA!” bellows of laughter come from the two of you as you both double over. You clutch your stomach and practically crouch to the ground while holding onto the bench for support. Suga is hugging his sides and throwing his head back, guffawing into the ceiling.
It’s undeniable. The pair of you are officially those rowdy customers that should be escorted away from any business establishment.
Shimizu tries to calm the cackles down as she looks around, and you feel bad. You try to gain composure as quickly as possible.
Suga continues on, and you smack his arm, “Hey. Shut up. We’re going to get your friend in trouble.” you stare with eyes apologizing at the woman.
Shimizu smiles genuinely at you, “I’m Shimizu, Kiyoko by the way.”
“Hi, I’m y/n” you give a tiny smile back.
Suga and you finally end that rambunctious shopping trip by paying at the register. You wave goodbye at Shimizu and she flashes her charming smile before you step out the door. The pair of you start walking back to the bus station, passing the shop-lined streets and feeling the crunch of the leaves underneath your soles.
“Wow, Shimizu’s so pretty.”
Suga nods, “She’s as beautiful as ever since high school.”
You raise an eyebrow, “Ooh, sounds like someone’s in love,” you sing-song. “But that’s too bad, Suga-chan! She’s engaged!”
“To Tanaka!” he throws his head back in laughter. “Unbelievable!” he continues guffawing. “He's never given up on his love for her all this time! I guess if you try hard enough, love gets returned back eventually.”
You scrunch up your nose, making a face. “Uh, no .” you huff. “I like to think that most women hate men who just keep on reaching as though they are entitled to eventually receive mutual feelings back.”
Suga’s expression softens, admiring your steadfast opinionated self. He’s always liked that about you. He nods his head in agreement, “Haha, yes. You’re right. Boys should not expect their feelings to be returned just because they love someone so much.” He continues, “But... Tanaka would never be that kind of guy, though. He seems more like the type who’d keep on working on himself to be worthy of your love.”
The frown lines on your face loosen, and you simper at the romanticism of that thought. “Hmm, if that‘s the case, then he sounds like a great guy.” you remark. “But also, what do I know about their relationship? I’m just assuming a lot of things here. I’m not the one who’s known them for years.”
"Yeah,” he smiles reminiscently. “Shimizu’s changed a bit too. She seems happier.“
You tilt your head curiously but move on, “All of you went to the same high school, right? Along with Asahi-san and Daichi-san?”
Suga’s smile broadens, “Yep! We were all on Karasuno’s volleyball team!”
He gets all excited whenever he talks to you about this. You know you’re always in for a chockfull of stories whenever you bring up his beloved high school days playing volleyball. Suga gazes far away, instant memories drumming at his head, and he sighs.
You peek into his cinnamon roll eyes as they soften like pillows. They were eyes that never wanted to forget the dreams that turned into reality when they were playing on those courts. Eyes that twinkled whenever it reminisced about warm memories of the past.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°
A pair of luminous eyes stare back questioningly at Ikejiri. Deep chocolate orbs that matched the cup of coffee in his hands, “Wait. What do you mean I should figure it out?” Daichi asks innocently, curious eyes peering at his friend across the café table.
Ikejiri sighs exasperatedly and throws his hands up in the air, “Your feelings for y/n-san!”
Contrary to popular belief, Ikejiri can match Daichi with his serious and occasionally agitated demeanor. It's a rare sight, but today at the coffee shop, he’s had enough with his middle-school friend’s outright ignorance of his own feelings. A few weeks have passed since he first noticed how Daichi reacted when asked about whether y/n was dating anyone. His apparent flabbergasted nature was an unusual sight, and Ikejiri couldn’t help but wonder what he might be hiding.
It started with the daily texts Daichi would send to him, asking if he thought it would be too much trouble to stop by his office and grab lunch with them. Ikejiri always welcomed the company, and he liked having his lively lunch break with you and Daichi. Whether it be eating homemade lunches in one of the city hall’s lounges or eating out at a nearby restaurant, the three of you often filled the air with laughter whenever you exchanged stories.
Back then it didn’t seem like anything, but then Ikejiri started to notice the brief moments where Daichi would always offer y/n a piece of his bento. It started off small with just an extra piece of his tamagoyaki, but over time, Ikejiri started noticing that he’d add a few more of his sides to y/n’s lunch spread, like a rice ball or a croquette. Daichi would even bring y/n her favorite drink and sometimes even dessert! Whether it be a favorite pastry or the latest creation at the bakery she frequents, he would always have something for her.
Ikejiri wouldn’t classify offering food as a clear indicator of Daichi’s feelings, but then he’d also notice the minuscule traces of lovesick tomfoolery his friend would have. He sees it with the soft expression Daichi has whenever he looks at y/n or when he senses all of Daichi’s attention directed at her whenever she’s talking. He always seemed to laugh a little louder at her jokes, even when Ikejiri doesn’t quite get y/n’s odd humor at times. Ikejiri would even catch Daichi smiling with one arm holding up his head over the table whenever he turned to listen to her. A classic case of the lovesick fool that he is. But of course, Daichi is too dense to see it himself.
“You’re so slow sometimes.” Ikejiri rolls his eyes.
“What are you talking about?” Daichi takes a sip of his coffee.
“Sigh . I guess I need to spell it out for you” he pauses to look Daichi straight in the eye, “You like y/n-san.”
Daichi sputters out his drink and coughs, “I... what? No I don’t!”
“Yeah you do.”
“No I don’t!” Daichi’s voice gets a little higher.
“Yeah you do.” Ikejiri repeats.
“What are you saying? I’m just really good friends with her!”
Ikejiri nods his head, unamused. “Yeah. You’re such good friends that you ended up liking her.”
“I… I don’t…? “ Daichi trails off, a little bit unsure now.
Ikejiri sips from his coffee and continues staring at his dim-witted friend, unamused.
“Is that what it looks like?”
A silent nod comes from Ikejiri with an “I-told-you-so” kind of face plastered on.
“I like y/n-san…?” Daichi tests out those words while still questioning it.
Ikejiri continues nodding.
“I like y/n-san.” He says it a little bit more firmly this time.
It’s like he’s telling the little person in his brain to get used to that thought. A flash of memories run through Daichi’s head of all the times he’s had with her. All the spurts of laughter they’ve shared over the years; all the moments she’d randomly pop in his head in the middle of the day; how just thinking about her brings a smile to his face; how much he likes seeing her happily scarf down whatever treat he gives; how he makes sure to remember that she's that weird person who likes donut holes over donuts and muffins over cupcakes; and…
Daichi’s eyes widened in realization, his mouth ajar “Oh my god, I like her.”
Ikejiri’s unamused eyes have not left him, and he slowly claps his hands together for his friend who finally understands. “Took you long enough.”
Daichi’s mouth is still agape. He’s finally said what he’s never been able to admit to himself until now, and he looks at Ikejiri pleadingly, “What do I do?”
“Well, what do you want to do?”
“I… I don’t know. I just don’t want to ruin anything.”
“What’s there to ruin?” Ikejiri shrugs. “You two are close enough as it is, you think confessing your feelings is enough to break a friendship like that?”
Daichi pauses to consider and rolls the thought around his head.
Ikejiri continues. “I’ve always thought that the people who think confessing to the other person could be the end of their friendship are just too afraid, you know? Like if it’s such a meaningful friendship to begin with, doesn’t it take more to break it? I mean, I’m sure it can be a little awkward for a bit, but that passes eventually just like anything else. At least you were being honest about your feelings.”
Daichi smirks and shakes his head, “That’s so much easier said than done.”
Ikejiri chuckles, “Yeah, I know.” he admits. “But at least now you know you’re true feelings.”
“Thanks for making it more complicated for me!” Daichi grins sarcastically.
“You’re welcome!” Ikejiri chirps as he takes another sip.
Daichi drinks out of his cup as well “So… what now?”
“You’re clearly still stunned about this realization, so maybe you should think about it more before confessing.” Ikejiri looks at his watch and stands up. “I thought you’d have better reasoning skills than this, officer.” he chuckles.
Daichi snorts.
Ikejiri takes his coat off the chair and grabs his coffee cup, “I should get back to the office now cause I’ve taken waaay too long of a break because of you.” he jokingly glares. “Y/n-san is going to scold me.”
“She wouldn’t do that.”
“Are you kidding? The woman you like is as strict as she is ditzy at times.”
“Don’t call her that!” Daichi’s eyes flash.
“She can be moody, but I guess you’re too in love to be turned off by that.” Ikejiri snickers, “It’s charming though. I can see why you like her.” he taps his friend’s shoulder. And with that he walks away, leaving Daichi staring at his back.
He sips from his coffee once more and turns to gaze out the window. Barely any leaves are left hanging on the branches and the gray cloudy skies really make it seem like winter snow is approaching any time now.
He wonders if you like the snow. He can imagine how pretty you would look with snowflakes attaching to your soft tresses and framing your lashes. He wonders whether he should even tell you his newfound feelings that he managed to stumble across with the help of a friend.
Sigh. Thanks a lot, Ikejiri, Daichi chuckles and takes one more sip of his sweet coffee.
summary: Sometimes the sweetest of friends go the extra mile to look out for you. And sometimes they're also just trying to send a signal to you too.
tags: friends to lovers, one-sided love, reader is clueless, fluff, college
<<part 2
series list
“Hold up, wait… I…” you eyes dart at the mess of pens and post-its scattered on the table that perfectly sum up the internal scramble in your deflating brain.
“Hah?”
Those fiery bright eyes simmer down into a muddled pool. Disinterest skirts his features. “You’re lucky, I’m patient,” he retorts.
Dumbfounded as fuck, you tilt your head at him and the blaze behind his eyes reignites.
“I fucking like you, goddamit woman!”
Oh nonononono this can’t be happening! Is he fucking for real?! Wait wha—
You swallow a lump in your throat— a calculated pause to not further anger the beast in front of you.
The beast who likes yo— uh-uh no!
No.
Let’s think about this now…
“You done yet?” the scowling pink tiger clicks his tongue. He props his head up with his fist, face tilted to the side, as he waits for you to recover. His watchful gaze as warm as a flickering fireplace as he counts his breath.
“Kuna, I need a moment…”
“Figured,” he rolls his eyes.
Another lump has lodged into your throat as you weigh the gravity of the moment.
The delicate mess swirling in your brain.
“I don’t know if—“
“No,” he straightens in his seat. “You said you need a moment, so take the damn moment!”
You open your mouth in protest and he firmly places a hand on top of your textbook again.
“Either way, I’ll respect your decision.”
The firmness in his tone strikes a chord.
It hums a sound that warms your eardrums.
Sukuna’s eyes suddenly sharpen, “But if you even think this will hurt what we have right now— don’t!” he snaps. “I’ll always be here for you in whatever way you need— as a friend or more. Whatever the fuck you want.”
Breath holding.
Heart pounding.
The warmth of his words makes you evaporate.
“That might be the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me,” you breathe.
He reels back and looks at you like you’re spastic, “Are you fucking kidding me? Have you even listened to me the past six months? Fuck! The past 10 minutes too— ‘fall in a love story with me?’” Sukuna cringes at his own words.
“I’ve been sending signals for forever here, goddamit!”
He sees you flit with worry and he exhales, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap—“
“It’s okay! You have the right to! I’ve been difficult when you’ve been trying so hard… I should’ve paid more attention…” you lower your head and stare down at your lap, leg bouncing erratically.
Sukuna places a hand on your knee and your ears burst, “Don’t worry about it. I might’ve sucked at telling you.” He looks back up at you and sees the red coat of paint shining on your face.
His own ears blush furiously and he turns his body to face the opposite direction, “My bad,” he speaks to a bookshelf in front of him. “I should probably stop being so close while you’re still deciding, huh?”
Your eyes crinkle at his politeness— so unlike him, yet they’re the very words that make your heart giggle and burst.
You reach for his hand and enclose it in yours like it’s second nature. Familiar and comfortable, like how it’s meant to be.
His own lava-filled irises threaten to spill out and dump its contents into your godforsaken heart.
“It’s fine. I didn’t need much time to decide,” you squeeze his hand as you replay the last ten years with him.
Fighting on the playgrounds.
Tormenting your bullies.
Tutoring you through cram school.
And now supporting you here at college too.
The evidence of his constant presence has been there all along.
“It’s always been you,” you breathe.
“I like you too.”
a/n: sooo i ended up writing more? hahahaha i decided to make a series list for this one because i think i'm just obsessed with this version of sukuna. i literally had to stop working and write this, then stayed past work hours in the office to do my "actual" job hahahaha
summary: group blind dates aren't your thing and so you devise a way to get out of it— except that may actually backfire (in a good way)
tags: post-timeskip, flirting, fluff, strangers to friends to lovers
“He’s such a baby, what the heck…” you grimace as the rushing water from the faucet washes over your hands.
“I know! Isn’t it SO CUTE!” your friend gushes as she exits a bathroom stall, “Such a manly-man and yet not afraid of showing his emotion and just plain cuteness.”
Your face slackens and you stare at her with disgust at the mirror.
“Oh gosh, you’re overreacting,” she says as she wipes her hands with a towel and reapplies lip gloss.
“Yeah, there’s a reason I’m not the mom-friend who likes to coddle and all that shit. I’ll leave you to him then.”
You swing open the door, ready to end this horrid blind date you basically got dragged into. “Hurry up, will you?” you gesture her quickly out the exit. “I want this night to end,” you groan.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°
“I knoooww… all the fans just kept cheering his name instead of mine all night, even after that sick spike at the end of the third set!” Bokuto’s eyes well up, as though he’s reliving the scene. “He’s not even on Japan’s National team! He’s on Argentina’s but they still love him and not me!” he whines into your friend’s shoulder as she shushes him and rubs circles into his back.
Your face has effectively settled into this look of disgust that you can’t seem to wipe off your face the longer you catch glimpses of her comforting that Bokuto guy who can’t help but pout all night.
Bokuto whines in the background and the stoic man next to you simply frowns and chugs down his wine as well.
“You don’t look much better yourself,” you huff.
“I’m sorry about him,” he says while glancing at Bokuto and sighs, “he gets into a mood sometimes.”
You shrug and sip your wine once more, “It’s whatever. It looks like she’s handling him just fine.”
Your friend offers a glass of water to Bokuto who desperately chugs it down and continues on with his drawn out sob story.
“You wanna get out of here?” you cock an eyebrow at him.
Akaashi’s eyes widen and you wave him off dismissively.
“And I don’t mean it in like a suggestive way, I just need to leave and call it a night, you know? Cause I honestly don’t know if my friend will let me go home alone because she’s been insisting me to go on dates again,” you roll your eyes.
Akaashi clears his throat and nods, “Uh, sure. If you don’t mind me tagging along.”
You drop a couple of bills underneath your wine glass to leave as a tip, “Not a problem at all”— you start grabbing your purse— “we’ll have to make this believable though. You mind if I get a little close to you and touch your arm or something?”
“Uh, okay…”
“Don’t worry, I won’t overdo it.”
Before Akaashi could even anticipate what you’re about to do, you stand and loop your arm through his— shoulders touching and face so close to his as you flash him with a dazzling smile. Quite a different look from the scowl you’ve been sporting all night.
“Hey, Akaashi and I will see you lovebirds another time, okay?” you grasp his forearm and lean into him even closer.
Akaashi’s skin vibrates with an intensity ready to power an entire electric grid.
“We just want to head out for a little bit,” you wink for added emphasis.
Your friend’s eyes glitter with a knowing look as she leans her head on Bokuto shoulder, “Okay, see you later! Text me when you’re home,” she winks back as she snuggles closer to him.
“Goodbye Bokuto-san. I’ll stop by tomorrow,” Akaashi waves at him and a depressed Bokuto half-heartedly waves back, not even looking up.
And before he knows it, Akaashi is already out the door under the nearest lamppost when you finally let go of his arm, giving him a satisfied grin.
“Nice job playing it off, man!” you give him a solid thumbs up. “You just smiling at me and being quiet there really sold it, I think! Your mopey friend seems a little skeptical at first, but he eventually seemed to believe it too!”
“Smiling? I was smiling?” Akaashi thought to himself.
“Well anyways, thanks for getting me out there,” you start turning away and waving at him, “have a good night!”
And Akaashi watches you saunter into the night, barely able to recover himself and from the idea of him smiling at you— smiling at you?! What reason does he even have to smile?— he shakes his head from the frivolousness of it all.
“Good night to you too,” he whispers and walks off, shaking his head.
a/n: cleaning out my drafts and finally felt like this was in a good enough place to release into the world!
futakuchi kenji x student council president!f!reader
futakuchi using your power as the student council president for his romantic actions.
wc: 2.6k, request
it was common knowledge at date tech that if you wanted to survive the lockers during a passing period, you needed to duck. specifically, you needed to duck whenever the giant, smirking menace known as futakuchi kenji was leaning against them, because his limbs were approximately seven miles long and he had absolutely zero respect for personal space.
well, zero respect for almost everyone’s personal space.
“y/n said i could have the last melon bread from the cafeteria,” futakuchi announced to the crowded hallway, his voice carrying with the effortless, grating confidence of a man who knew exactly how to push everyone’s buttons. he was currently dangling a poor, trembling first-year by the back of his blazer—not aggressively, just enough to hoist him out of the lunch queue. “it’s a matter of student council policy. national security, really. she was very specific about it.”
you, standing exactly three feet behind him with a stack of club budget reports pressed to your chest, blinked slowly. the absolute audacity of this man was a physical weight in the air.
“kenji,” you said, your voice flat but carrying that distinct, tired authority that only student council presidents possessed. “i did not say that. in fact, i haven’t spoken to you since yesterday when you tried to convince me that the volleyball club needed a budget increase specifically for ‘industrial-grade hair gel.’”
futakuchi didn’t even flinch. he didn’t drop the first-year either, though he did loosen his grip slightly. instead, he turned his head slowly, flashing you a smile so bright and utterly shameles that it probably could have powered the entire school’s electrical grid for a week. it was a gorgeous smile, which was the worst part. his eyes, usually heavy-lidded and brimming with pure, unadulterated mischief, crinkled at the corners in a way that made your stomach do a stupid little flip that you fiercely ignored.
“wow,” he said, his hand flying to his chest in a display of theatrical agony that would have made a drama club captain weep. “gaslighting me in public. in front of the children, y/n? after everything we’ve been through? my heart is practically in ribbons on this linoleum.”
the first-year scrambled away the second futakuchi’s fingers relaxed. you sighed, shifting the heavy folders in your arms. “we haven’t ‘been through’ anything except me denying your request to replace the school bell with a recording of you laughing.”
“it would boost morale!” he insisted, immediately closing the distance between you. he didn’t just walk over; he sort of looms-slouched, bending his massive frame down so he could look directly into your eyes. he smelled like clean laundry and a faint hint of peppermint gum, a combination that was infuriatingly pleasant. “the student body is depressed. my laughter is a tonic. a cure-all. and you told me at 8:15 this morning that you’d consider it. right after you said i looked exceptionally handsome in this cardigan.”
“you aren’t wearing a cardigan, kenji. that’s a school blazer. and i was in a finance meeting at 8:15.”
“details, details,” he waved a hand dismissively, his fingers brushing against the edge of your papers. “the point is, your mouth said ‘no’ but your pupils said ‘kenji, you are the sun around which my little planetary heart orbits.’ i’m just translating for the public.”
you couldn’t help it. a tiny, breathless laugh escaped your nose, and the effect it had on him was instantaneous and terrifying.
futakuchi’s entire demeanor shifted. the mock-arrogance evaporated, replaced by a look of such raw, unvarnished adoration that it felt illegal to witness in a public hallway. his pupils actually dilated. if he had tail, it would be knocking over fire extinguishers. he looked at you the way a starving Victorian orphan would look at a loaf of freshly baked sourdough.
“there it is,” he murmured, his voice dropping an octave into something dangerous and soft. “the laugh that keeps my blood pumping. do it again. i’ll give the first-year his bread back. i’ll give him my own bread. i’ll buy him a bakery.”
“go to class, kenji,” you murmured, your cheeks heating up despite your best efforts to remain a stoic pillar of student democracy.
“only if you promise to let me carry those heavy-ass folders after school,” he countered, leaning in just a fraction closer. a lock of his brown hair fell over his forehead, and it took every ounce of your self-control not to reach up and brush it back. “y/n said i’m the official student council pack mule. it’s the law.”
“i never said that.”
“there you go again,” he sighed, though his eyes were dancing with pure, liquid joy. “erasing our shared history. it’s a tragedy, really. a cinematic heartbreak.”
the “y/n said so” rule quickly escalated from a mild annoyance to a full-blown school-wide religion.
futakuchi was smart. he didn’t use your name to get out of trouble with teachers—he wasn’t that stupid, and he genuinely respected your position too much to actually get you in hot water. instead, he used your name to justify the most absurd, self-serving, and wildly romantic nonsense imaginable.
𓏵
on tuesday, he took up an entire table in the library, sprawling his long legs across three chairs. when the librarian shushed him and told him to move, he solemnly claimed that you had prescribed him “aggressive leg-stretching therapy” to cure a sudden and life-threatening cramp, and that you had personally designated that specific table as a medical zone.
when you marched into the library after hearing the rumors, ready to scold him, you found him actually studying. or, rather, attempting to study while drawing little caricatures of you in the margins of his notebook.
“my leg is failing me, president,” he whined the moment you appeared at his side. he didn’t even look up from his drawing, where he was currently giving your cartoon self a tiny crown. “the doctor—you—said i need to keep it elevated. are you going to revoke my medical leave? in front of all these books? the literature will weep.”
“get your feet off the chairs, you giant menace,” you whispered, though you pulled out the chair next to him and sat down anyway.
he immediately complied, swinging his legs down with a speed that defied physics just so he could scoot his chair close enough that your shoulders touched. the contact sent a jolt of static electricity through your blazer, or maybe that was just your nervous system losing its absolute mind.
“i knew you’d come check on your favorite patient,” he hummed, leaning his head sideways until it was resting on your shoulder. he was heavy, but you didn’t push him away. his hair was soft against your neck, tickling your skin. “did you bring the medicine? and by medicine, i mean the sweet, sweet sound of you telling me i’m doing a good job with these quadratic equations.”
“you haven’t even started the quadratic equations, kenji. you’ve just drawn me with a cape.”
“it’s a power cape,” he mumble-spoke against your blazer, his breath warm through the fabric. “because you hold the leash to my entire soul. that’s very powerful of you. highly commendable.”
you felt a genuine, ridiculous bubble of warmth expand in your chest. it was impossible to be truly annoyed with him when he said things like that with such complete, unironic sincerity. he didn’t sound like he was mocking you. he sounded like he was stating a fundamental law of the universe. gravity exists, the earth is round, and futakuchi kenji belongs to you.
“you are so dramatic,” you breathed, turning a page in your own textbook to hide the smile stretching across your face.
“i am a man possessed by a vision of a future where you finally stop fighting destiny and go to the spring festival with me,” he said, his voice muffled by your shoulder. “y/n said i’m allowed to take her. she signed a permit. it was on pink paper. very official.”
“i did no such thing.”
“the gaslighting!” he gasped, lifting his head to look at you with wide, betrayed eyes. “it never ends! i am a victim of the system!”
𓏵
by friday, the entire volleyball team had become accomplices to his madness.
you walked into the gym to deliver the approved schedule for the upcoming practice matches, only to find the entire squad standing in a neat line. aone was at the end, looking politely neutral as always, while the others were grinning like sharks.
futakuchi was in the center, spinning a volleyball on his finger, looking like he had just won the lottery.
“ah, the commander-in-chief arrives,” futakuchi crooned, letting the ball bounce off his palm and catching it against his hip. “perfect timing. we were just discussing the new dress code you implemented.”
you stopped dead in your tracks, eyebrows shooting toward your hairline. “the what?”
“the rule where the captain gets to receive a high-five and a forehead kiss after every successful block,” moniwa piped up from the sidelines, looking halfway between amused and deeply apologetic for his successor’s behavior. “he says it’s for... aerodynamic efficiency?” he looks like he regrets visiting practice.
“aerodynamics are crucial in high-level sports,” futakuchi said with a completely straight face. “and since the president is the ultimate authority on efficiency, she gave it the green light. didn’t you, my beloved leader?”
you stared at him. he was bouncing on the balls of his feet, his eyes shining with a frantic, eager energy that made him look less like a cocky athlete and more like a massive puppy waiting for a treat. he was so completely transparent about how much he wanted your attention that it was honestly a little bit overwhelming. it was like standing too close to a furnace.
“moniwa,” you said, looking past the smirking captain. “please tell me you don’t actually believe him.”
“oh, we don’t,” moniwa laughed, waving a hand. “but he refuses to practice unless we play along. he said his motivation is tied directly to the public acknowledgement of your shared ‘pact.’”
“it’s not a pact!” you turned back to futakuchi, who had now drifted closer, his large frame blocking the rest of the team from your view. “kenji, you can’t keep inventing school board mandates just to harass me.”
“harass? i am showering you with the highest honors a peasant can bestow upon his queen,” he countered, dropping the volleyball and taking a step into your personal space. his hands came up, hovering just an inch away from your waist, as if he desperately wanted to touch you but was holding himself back by sheer force of will. “and i’m not inventing them. i’m manifesting them. there’s a difference. it’s spiritual.”
“you are a menace to society.”
“and you,” he said, his voice dropping to that melt-your-bones register again, “are the only reason i haven’t burned this school to the ground out of sheer boredom. look at me, y/n. i’m a changed man. i haven’t insulted a single rival captain in at least forty-eight hours—yes yes, we didn’t have a game for the last forty-eight hours, but who’s counting? not me—all because i want to make you proud. that has to be worth at least one pity date.”
you looked at him. his hair was damp from practice, a few stray curls sticking to his temples. his cheeks were flushed, and his chest was heaving slightly from the exertion of drills. but more than that, his eyes were fixed on yours with a fierce, burning intensity that made everything else in the gym fade into white noise.
he was pleading. behind all the snark and the ridiculous claims of gaslighting lay a boy who was so utterly, desperately crazy about you that he was willing to make a complete fool of himself in front of his peers just to get you to look at him a little bit longer.
it was the most romantic thing anyone had ever done for you, and it was absolutely terrifying in its sincerity.
“it wouldn’t be a pity date,” you said softly, the words slipping out before you could fully process them.
futakuchi froze. the smirk that seemed permanently etched onto his face vanished in an instant, replaced by an expression of pure, unadulterated shock. his hands, which had been hovering near your waist, actually twitched.
“what?” he whispered, his voice cracking slightly.
“i said it wouldn’t be a pity date,” you repeated, feeling a surge of bravery that definitely didn’t belong to a measured student council president. you reached out and gently took hold of his damp gym shirt, tugging him down just enough that he had to bend to your level. “if you want to take me to the spring festival, kenji, all you have to do is ask me like a normal human being. you don’t need to forge a decree from the student council.”
for the first time in his entire life, futakuchi kenji was speechless. his mouth opened, closed, and then opened again. a bright, furious shade of crimson painted his neck and flooded his face, stretching all the way to the tips of his ears. it was a glorious sight.
“i—” he gulped, his adam’s apple bobbing violently. “y/n. president. light of my life. ruler of my heart.”
“kenji.”
“will you please let me take you to the festival?” he asked, and for once, there wasn’t a single trace of mockery or sarcasm in his voice. it was raw and breathless and so sweet it made your teeth ache. “and maybe also let me hold your hand? and buy you those ridiculous giant candied apples? and tell everyone that you’re the best thing that ever happened to this miserable, grey school?”
you smiled, a real, genuine smile that reached your eyes, and letting go of his shirt, your hand slid up to cup his jaw. his skin was warm, and he leaned into your touch instantly, closing his eyes like a cat basking in the sun.
“yes,” you said quietly. “i think the student council can approve that.”
he didn’t cheer. he didn’t gloat to his team. instead, he let out a long, shaky breath and folded himself forward, burying his face in the crook of your neck. his large arms came around you, locking at your waist and pulling you flush against his chest in a hug so tight it nearly squeezed the oxygen right out of your lungs. he was shaking just a little bit.
“wow,” he mumbled into your collarbone, his voice thick with emotion. “she didn’t reject me. she actually likes me. moniwa, write this down. mark the calendar. this is the greatest day in human history.”
“get back to practice, futakuchi!” moniwa yelled from across the gym, though he was smiling.
futakuchi didn’t let go. if anything, he squeezed you tighter, resting his chin on your shoulder and pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the side of your neck that sent shivers racing down your spine.
“y/n said i can stay right here for the next twenty years,” he announced to the gym, his smugness returning at full force now that the panic had subsided. “it’s a new school regulation. direct order from the top. anyone who tries to pull us apart is committing treason.”
you rolled your eyes, wrapping your arms around his broad back and hugging him right back. “i definitely didn’t say that.”
“there she goes again,” he sighed happily, nuzzling your cheek. “the gaslighting is just endless. but god, i love it when you take charge.”
n: futakuchi’s so fine but i still want to strangle him sometimes.
summary: Sometimes the sweetest of friends go the extra mile to look out for you. And sometimes they're also just trying to send a signal to you too.
tags: friends to lovers, one-sided love, reader is clueless, fluff, college
<<part 1
part 3>>
series list
It’s another night of studying (more like stu-DYING, really), and you groan into the ceiling above.
“Argh!”
“You didn’t wipe the drool off your mouth, you know,” Sukuna mutters indifferently as he turns a page in his book.
Your gaze sharpens as you drop back from above and wipe the side of your mouth.
“Yah missed.”
“Shut up!” you paw the other side of your face.
“Tch,” he gives a quick lick of his thumb and grabs your chin with his other hand.
“Oi!”
Kuna wipes the corner of your lip— the pad of his thumb swiping across, and the grain of his calloused fingers brushing against your skin.
“There ya go,” he smirks.
You blow a wayward strand out of your face, “Thanks,” you roll your eyes.
“My pleasure,” his irises glint against the warm glow of the desk lamp sitting between you two.
He found you at your study nook again and successfully dragged you to his dorm’s common room. It didn’t take much effort for him to drag you out. He practically swiped your textbook as he materialized out of the bookshelves and disappeared into the night, leaving you scrambling in dismay.
That sneaky little shit.
It reminded you of all the times he’d swipe your juice box from your grasp when you were little. He’d force you to run outside with him, waving your drink that’s rightfully yours in the air, and then taunting you by finishing the whole thing right in front of your face— huffing and puffing as you finally caught up.
That sadist being you still call a best friend.
It’s another Friday night in, and you’re littered in stacks of post-its and highlighters occupying more than half the desk.
“I literally don’t fucking get how you’re still studying— isn’t the semester over for you now?”
“Nope!” you chirp. “Nanami-sensei gave me an extension for the final paper since he knows I’ve been juggling the tour this past month,” you grin.
“Isn’t he the best?”
Sukuna grits his teeth. Jaw tightening and untightening as he watches your cute little face, blissfully unaware of the blistering hot magma outpouring from his ears at the sound of you praising your goddamn professor.
“He even wished me good luck for my next performance! He’s been so patient with me all semester!”
“I’m patient with you!” Sukuna practically yells, eyes fiery yet mouth turned down in a mini pout.
You chuckle as you turn a page in your textbook and place a sticky note on it, “Yes, you always have been, and I appreciate you for it,” you beam at him and Sukuna is paralyzed.
Your smile sending him to the moon and back.
But then you just went back to your book and scrawled a note into the margins.
“Oh, and did you know that he has a son too? His name is Yuji-kun, and sensei apparently talked about our band to him!” your eyes sparkled and it was the lighter that sparked Sukuna’s rage back up to incendiary levels.
“Stop talking about that damn professor!”
Your alarmed eyes meet his crimson flames, seething and barely contained. “Oh, sorry Kuna! I’ve been distracting you, haven’t I? I’ll shut up so that you don’t have to keep waiting for me!”
And you return to your book like everything’s perfectly normal. Humming to the tune of one of your songs as you trace the words on your page and quickly write a note about it on another post-it.
Sukuna groans and you pay no mind to it— flipping the page, eyebrows knitted.
He huffs enigmatically and composes himself. Massaging his closed eyelids and releasing the tension he’s been in a tug-of-war with.
Sigh.
Face still half-covered by his palm, he sneaks a look at you through his fingers.
You bit your lip, concentrating on the next paragraph and scrawl another note as you scan the page.
And he sighs again.
Content to be with you like this, yet wanting more too.
“You’re never gonna get it, huh?”
“Hmm?” your brows raise, yet eyes still trained at the page. “What’d you say, Kuna?”
He leans across the table, “Hey, put down the book for me, will you?”— he splays a hand over the pages, covering your notes.
Before you can even complain, he steals your gaze away with those deep crimson irises that melt you into the ground.
“How about you fall into a love story with me this time?”
a/n: AHHHH this came in a rush when I woke up this morning, and I just had to write it down before it escaped me. I think this might just be a two-part story, but who knows? Inspiration comes and goes!
Edit: there’s a part 3 haha. I’m rereading this to get me out of my writer’s block and I’m realizing my note^^ feels outdated bc yes, I did write more than just two parts
