He would do ANYTHING but admit that he has the fattest, most obvious crush on you.
Leaning against the wall, hood pulled up, trying his hardest to look casual after seeing you walk out of class.
You froze.
“What are you doing here?”
He didn't even glance at you, just shrugged.
“walking home”
You raised a brow. “Funny, considering your house is literally in the opposite direction.”
“…Taking the long way.”
“Uh-huh. Not because I get out of class around this time.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered, pushing off the wall and starting to walk. “Are you coming or not?”
“You’re obsessed with me.”
“I’m not. Don’t flatter yourself.” His ears were bright red, though, betraying him.
You entered a random shop, buying your favorite snacks, but before you could pay, he slapped cash down before you could.
“What are you-”
“It’s faster this way.”
Liar.
“You even brought my favorite flavour,” you gasped.
“I pay attention. Someone has to.”
“Pay attention? Wow. You are obsessed with me.”
At lunch, you forgot your water bottle, again. But before you can do something about it, he slams one in front of you, already opened.
You squint. “Did you… open this for me?”
“I didn’t want to see you, pathetically struggling with the cap like last time.”
“So you think about me?” you ask, smiling.
He grips his chopsticks like he’s about to snap them. “I THINK ABOUT HOW CLUMSY YOU ARE, THAT’S IT.”
At night, you text him:
“You up?”
He replies in 0.3 seconds:
“sleep.”
“Why are you up?”
“Someone has to make sure you don’t stay up all night.”
“Just say you're obsessed with me.”
“I'M NOT. Goodnight.”
NOT EVEN 2 SECONDS LATER:
“Did you eat dinner?”
He’s already at the stove, making your favorite breakfast.
You smile. “Aww, making me pancakes? You love me.”
Without missing a beat, he grumbles, “Don’t get ahead of yourself. I was already making them. You just… benefit.”
Later that day, your friend visits your shared apartment and sees the photo wall in the living room—covered in pictures of you. You laughing, you asleep on the couch, you eating, you doing random things.
Your friend: “…You’re obsessed.”
He, instantly defensive: “I’M NOT. I just..needed to decorate the wall and these were the only decent pictures I had.”
Nothing has changed since high school..Not even now with a big shiny rock on your ring finger and sharing his last name with 3 other mini versions of you two.
“I don’t like you. I tolerate you.”
While braiding your hair, warming your car in the morning, and labeling all your snacks in the fridge so no one else touches them.
He could be 50 years old, carrying your groceries, cooking your favorite meal, yelling at the kids for not respecting their mom, and still be like:
“I'm not obsessed. I just… happen to want her happy 24/7,” he says while doing your skin care and giving you a massage while the kids are listening, not buying his bullshit.
"Okay, maybe I am just a little- a little too much"
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.
timeskip!haikyuu boys that fuck you on the beach when the sun sets.
hidden behind rocks, laying on a towel laid out for you two, feeling the sand under it. his hand cradled the back of your neck as he kissed you desperately, his hips thrusting up onto yours.
“we can’t.” you mumbled, looking around.
“why not? i’ll be quick i promise,” he kissed your knuckles “please?”
how could you say no?
you let his big hands put you on top of him, he pulled your bikini to the side, burying his fat cock into your warm pussy without giving you time to adjust.
you gasped, nails digging onto his shoulders.
“so tight, baby.” he groaned, kissing your temple. he gave a slow thrust into you, before pulling out completely and sinking you down onto him again.
you moaned, resting your head on his shoulder, biting onto your lip.
“you’re gorgeous, y’know that?” he whispered in your ear “i can’t help it baby, seeing you wearing this bikini got me hard as fuck— mgh.”
his arms were wrapped strongly around your back, holding you as his hips snapped up to meet yours deliberately.
“you’re gonna make me cum,” he whined “can’t help it, i’m sorry.”
the sound of the waves were the only thing keeping you in your senses, the sky was beautifully decorated with orange, yellow and red. a sight to be hold, but he could only look at you.
he gave one last deep thrust and spilled his seed inside of you, breathing heavily as he laid back, his hand caressing your back up and down.
Futakuchi couldn’t really put into words why he had such a huge crush on you. You were his best friend’s sister, similar to your older brother in your calmer nature.
Perhaps it was because one of Futakuchi’s favourite things in the world was your laugh. It rang so much louder than your usual timid voice, making his heart skip a beat as he listened to the sound like it was the bells at his own wedding.
And being the one who made that laugh happen? Jack-fucking-pot.
So he would always invite himself to Aone’s house when they were in high school, hoping you would be around for dinner. It was a long-term commitment to him, getting together with you. You were the only woman he ever fell for, so he knew he had to go slow.
Of course, he still treasured his friendship with Aone, which held strong even years after high school. It wasn’t all just for you, even though it might… seem that way…
“I was thinking of getting some flowers for my mom, but I don’t know which ones,” he thought out loud one day, sitting on the bench after a game with their municipal volleyball team. Aone was drinking from his water bottle and nodded for him to continue. “What’s your sister’s favourite flower?”
Aone eyed him for a second before shaking his head, making Futakuchi feel quite sheepish.
“Who’s your sister bringing to that family thing you guys had? She never talked about going on any dates, right?”
Aone sighed and shrugged, not particularly updated on your love life and preferring to eat his lunch in peace.
“Your sister just opened her new cafe! I happened to walk by this morning. Maybe we should go there, show our support.”
Aone pinned Futakuchi with a stern look and pointed down the street. “You should go.”
Futakuchi couldn’t believe the blunt answer and just sounded an awkward squeak in response.
“I’m not stupid,” Aone mumbled.
“Could I get a double burger and a large soda?”
You rolled your eyes and chuckled affectionately, putting the lid on a cup for a finished order as you turned around. A chuckle, Futakuchi thought, that’s not enough. “I thought you two might come around soon with some ridiculous order-“
As your eyes found a lone Futakuchi with a cheeky smile, you leaned silently to the side to check that your tall brother wasn’t hiding behind his friend. “It’s just me.”
Without answering, you walked to the end of the counter to hand off the order to the waiting customer, telling them to have a great day before moving back to the register where he waited. “I didn’t think you liked coffee.”
You spoke politely, with a soft smile that made Futakuchi crave more, greedily. “Wait,” he said, feigning surprise and putting his hands on the counter so he could lean over and look around the station. “You mean you actually don’t sell burgers here?”
A laugh slipped past you, but you covered your mouth. “Not many cafes do, I think.”
He smiled, cheeky as ever. “My bad. I got distracted.”
“Coward,” Aone grumbled into the phone the second Futakuchi picked up.
The brunette scoffed, making sure it rang clearly. “I’m working on it!”
“You spent an hour bothering her at work and still didn’t ask her out.”
“I’d like to think I was good company, anyway,” Futakuchi argued, exasperated but knowing he couldn’t argue much with Aone. If anyone stunted his attitude, it was his best friend.
“You get one week, and then I‘ll tell Koganegawa to shoot his shot.”
Futakuchi stared at the phone in his hand, which beeped rhythmically.
“That bastard hung up on me,” he whispered to himself in disbelief. The audacity.
Meanwhile, Aone was smiling as he hummed and watered his plants. It’s fun to instigate some drama every once in a while.
Futakuchi Kenji was not a coward.
But as of late, he sure was a simp.
As he entered your cafe, his breath hitched hearing you laugh well at something another customer said, waving your hand as if they had you laughing for hours.
“Y/n,” Futakuchi said, just loud enough that he was sure to get your attention, but not so loud that he would be yelling. “What’s up?”
You cleared your throat and wished the funny customer goodbye before moving to the register. Futakuchi sent the customer a look in passing before giving you his usual mischievous smile. “Back again?” you asked, smiling sweetly like you didn’t have his heart in a chokehold.
“Enough with the applause, I’m just a normal guy,” he cooed, as if paparazzi were snapping photos when he made his way to you. He leaned on the counter to be even closer as you laughed and almost let his eyes fall closed to enjoy it. “Everything alright here?” he asked instead.
You nodded, looking over the tables filled with the miscellaneous students, gossipers and business folks. “I’d say it’s perfect.” Your eyes travelled back to his again. “Now that you’re here too.”
Not many people could make Futakuchi blush. He looked down as if that would hide it when his ears were just as red. “That’s good.”
You tilted your head. “Can I get you anything?”
“A normal coffee and…” He leaned back up on his hands. “And a date.”
To say you were surprised… would be a lie. Your brother was not always the most subtle. Still, you couldn’t stop smiling at the fact that he finally asked. You chuckled happily and nodded, tapping on the screen of the register.
“One coffee. How would you like the date?” you asked. Futakuchi felt the constricted air in his lungs finally escape and was replaced with butterflies waving around his stomach. The cheeky look was back on his face as he gestured to show he was thinking about it.
“There’s a fair out by the beach? Friday night, if you’d like that.”
With a decisive nod, you agreed. “Perfect. I will get you your coffee now, then.”
“Thanks, pumpkin.”
He’s about 20 minutes late to work now, and he couldn’t be happier about it.
masterlist
requested by @cottonlemonade for my event, anything for you <3 this is the last request, thank you to everyone who participated!! and thanks to @dira333 for inspiring the ending<3
