actually one more thing. i know for a fact that suna is so unbelievably well built and he acts annoyingly fucking nonchalant about it but you make the mistake of mentioning one time that he has a sleeper build bc he's constantly dressed in athleisure and he's like "i'm built like someone you wanna sleep with? damn that's crazy. so like when were you thinking specifically?"
after dinner protein shake and gym session because he woke up too late to do it in the morning and he can’t sleep through the night unless he’s exhausted beforehand anyway
Along the blackwater coast of Romirro, people whisper about the Lemurians—the beautiful strangers said to emerge from the sea wearing human shapes. Legends say they come ashore seeking humans, whether as meal or more, no one knows for certain. What is certain, however, is that they always find the exhausted, the indebted, or the heartbroken first. According to folklore, the Lemurians never drag anyone beneath the waves by force. Instead, they court their chosen for months or years, until the sea begins to feel more inviting than the land ever was.
You think you know what is happening, then, when the most handsome man you've ever seen washes ashore after a storm.
This is your family's hardest year yet, and somehow, despite the unlikeliness of the tide, he's deposited along the shallow pools where you and your sister gather shellfish. Water pools too enticingly in the hollow of his throat, beads along his long lashes, glittering against his pale skin. You do not trust the look of him. But your sister is already halfway in love with him, and cannot bear to leave him behind.
So you take him home, hoping that you are wrong.
You nurse him back from the state the sea left him in, careful not to let your sister go too near. Her fantastical, romantic waxings in the warmth of your hut have you almost believing you were too quick to draw conclusions about him. She is a year younger than you, in ways that feel more like a thousand years sometimes, but the naiveté and idealism of her world view make you want to believe the world can like be that too. You hope she is right, and he is just a beautiful man.
But then he wakes, and you are all too certain he isn't.
His eyes fix too readily on you when he opens them, his attention too immediate and precise. He is too interested in you when he recovers enough to speak—and repeats your name in a way that makes a shiver slink down your spine.
He tells you his name is Rafayel, and he's been shipwrecked. When pressed, however, he cannot name his home port, the name of his ship, or any of his crewmates. The memory of what they were carrying is conveniently lost to the tides. He is too empty of anything except the sea, you think, and you watch him as closely as he watches you.
Your sister is entranced and enthralled with him. You should feel relief that his attention does not linger on her the same way hers lingers on him. But you cannot, with Rafayel inside your home, asking after you instead, your habits, your likes and dislikes. He's come ashore for something, you know, and you do not intend for him to find it in your home.
You watch him carefully, and when he is well enough, you cajole him outside with a request for help gathering shellfish. You lead him back down to the tidepools, a large bucket clutched in hand. You are apprehensive that he will catch on to your plan so you move slowly, try to turn back to him often, tipping your face up to his. You find yourself doing it almost too willingly, reluctant to tear your eyes away from him.
You turn your face up to his again as you make it to the tidepools, and Rafayel steps closer this time. His mouth lingers over yours, his body so close, the promise of something slipping between you. His eyes glint blue like the sea, and you almost forget yourself for a minute as his mouth lowers to yours.
It's half and accident when you overturn your bucket of collected rainwater between you.
But Rafayel's face changes immediately as he takes a shocked step back, and it's then that you know for sure.
Harbor folklore says Lemurians cannot pursue someone across running fresh water. And Rafayel stumbles back, long eyelashes fluttering as he stares at you in stunned disbelief. The tide laps angrily at his heels, suddenly growing discontent, roiling like a pot over the fire.
He says your name, sweet and entreating.
But you turn and leave before your small, freshwater stream can run its course into the sea. You will hang braided eelgrass across your door tonight, and burn peat in the hearth, so that he cannot get in again. You tell him as much as you clamber back up the shoreline to safety, tell him he is wasting his time on you.
But what you do not know is that once a Lemurian falls truly fond of someone, they become dangerously patient. He will wait, like the tide that keeps arriving, until the shore gives way grain by grain, and little by little slides into the waiting sea.
Suna did a double-take when he opened the door to his house and saw you, looking ready for the day and whatever plans he had probably forgotten.
He pointed over his shoulder. “I’ll be honest here, I didn’t know we had plans.”
“I’m not here for you, sweetheart.” You chuckled and shook your head, putting a hand on his waist and squishing his side as you moved past without leaning in for a kiss. “Your sister and I have a shopping date.”
Suna blinked at the floor where you just walked by him for a moment before scoffing. “What?”
You were making your way through the house, kindly greeting Suna’s parents as you passed them in the living room before making your way up the stairs.
“Rina!” you called softly, grinning when she came out of her room and then pulling her with you down the stairs. By the time you came back down, your boyfriend was blocking your way. Holding his hands up as if blocking on the court, he glanced at you before his eyes settled on his sister.
“This is kidnapping. I won’t allow it.”
You snorted, looking to the younger Suna for her answer. Rina cocked an eyebrow. “Are you suggesting you own y/n? Not much of a feminist, I see.”
“I love women,” he argued mindlessly, only to be answered with a scoff.
“You love other women than y/n?”
“No?” he squeaked, arms lowering along with his confidence. Damn it, he shouldn’t have taught his little sister his tricks. “Why wasn’t I invited? I love shopping.”
“You hate shopping,” you corrected him. “And although I love when you carry all my bags, I need some time with my girl.”
“My girl has a girl?” Suna questioned, seemingly more to the universe than to either of you. Meanwhile, you and Rina made your way past him, finding your shoes and slipping them on along with your coats. Suna noticed you didn’t have a scarf as he followed you into the hallway, and though he didn’t enjoy this, he opened a drawer to find one of his scarves before wrapping it around your neck haphazardly. “Fine, have fun, I guess. Better send me some pictures of the stuff you try on.”
Suna shoved his hand into his sister’s face before pecking your lips with a sweet hum, savouring the taste. “Of course,” you agreed, patting his chest.
“And bring me back something. A souvenir. And food, preferably.”
“Okay, baby.”
Just as you stepped outside, Suna looked at you longingly and stretched out his arm as if you would disappear forever, only to be interrupted by Rina once again.
“Aren’t you going to give her your credit card?”
“…I’m seventeen years old, I can barely afford to take the bus, idiot.”
Rintarō stands in the hallway till his feet tingle, pins and needles, until he has to sit down. That's how you find him, spread out among his notebooks, half-finished calculations and doodles in the margins on display.
"Hey," he says, clambering to his feet before you can collect yourself and walk away. "Wait up."
"Were you here my entire class?" You say, sounding angrier than you should for someone whose boyfriend was waiting for them.
"Yeah," he shrugs. "I got here at the usual time 'cause I wasn't sure if it ran later on exam days."
"It does," you say slowly. That's obvious. He checks his watch. It's three and you're usually home with him by one-fifty. "You didn't have to. You shouldn't have."
"I know," he says, crouching to shove his stuff into his backpack without care for what he's crumpling. "I got your letter."
"I'm sorry," you say, hiding your face from him, turning away. He puts a hand on the back of your neck, guides it back to him. He can see it, the crushed expression in your eyes, the sad turn of your mouth. "You can't—I'm sorry, okay?"
"It was bullshit," he says. You stumble over your feet, the hard mask you'd put over your features breaking momentarily. Even when it reforms, he feels victorious, knowing that you still want him—need him, even when you try to run from it. "So I'm ignoring it."
"What?" Your eyes are round, your jaw slack. Helpfully, he nudges it closed with a knuckle.
"You don't get to do that," he says. "Break up with me. Not unless it was for a good reason. Believe me, babe, I read that thing up and down and there wasn't one good reason on there, so we're not breaking up."
"Please don't do this," you say as the two of you walk out of the hall into the light, your face crumpling into something so sad despite the sunny day it almost makes him want to cry. "It's for the best. I know that's hard to believe now, but you have to look at the bigger picture—"
"Nope," he interrupts you. "I know you're a little know-it-all—how'd your exam go, by the way—and you think you know what's best for everyone all the time, but that letter was honestly really badly reasoned. Wouldn't hold up in any mock trial. So you're getting a zero and a second chance for a re-grade."
"It was fine," you say automatically. "Wait, take this seriously, please. I care about you and I don't want anyone to get hurt."
"This is the most serious thing I've ever done," he says, motioning between the two of you. "But I refuse to entertain some fucking note where you just lie—"
"I didn't lie!" You cry out. "I wrote my feelings, you asshole, which are the basis of a relationship—"
"Your feelings are wrong—"
"This is exactly what I meant!" You shout at him, garnering a few looks from the scant people walking around the secluded section of campus you're in. You lower your voice self-consciously, but your words still land like punches to his chest. "I'm broken, Rintarō, everything we do is going to end up poisoned. I don't want—" You gesture to yourself, to the tears slipping down your face. "This to happen to you. Can't you just let me go and remember only the good parts?"
"Stop it, stop it," he stops walking to pull you into his chest, sighing with relief when you press your face into his black hoodie. "That's not gonna happen. Don't say that shit about yourself, fuck, I don't care what you are as long as you're my person. Breathe, baby."
"Stop saying the right things," you say miserably. "I was so determined to not let you see this."
He pokes your cheek gently. "Sucks."
"So..." You pull away from him and he lets go reluctantly, pulling down the sleeve of his hoodie to dab at your cheeks. "We're not broken up?"
He gives you an unimpressed look and you start laughing despite yourself, something strange happening inside your chest, weird and unburdened and maybe stitching itself shut.
It really is uncanny, how quiet the night becomes once the door closes. The call of a couple dozen voices all speaking at once (some conversing, some shouting, some singing along to the bard and his raunchy songs- all Mondstadt classics, of course) muffles to a soft din. Like the gentle buzzing of bees. A joyous background track to the cold and crisp night.
Standing alone on the balcony, you feel your heart swell. The glow of Angel’s Share lights the pavement, casting the world into sweet ambers and gentle blues. You’d never been one for large celebrations, but you’d never deny the pleasure of knowing everyone and everything you held dear could be found a few steps away. There were few indulgences you denied yourself, and the tender joy of knowing that you loved and were surrounded by love was definitely not one.
You hope you aren’t the only one feeling so softhearted today, of all days.
“Didn’t think I’d find you here,” a voice calls from behind, breaking the comfortable silence between you and the night.
“Liar,” you accuse, not bothering to look back. Your face is already flushed, your heart racing and head clouded slightly from cold and food and drink.
The tread of boots precedes your interloper’s approach, giving you enough time to prepare yourself as Kaeya comes to stand by your side. So close that you can feel the warmth radiating off of him and just far enough that you have to fight the desire to lean in. To make it known how much you want more than just closeness.
“I would never lie to you,” Kaeya lies and mirrors your pose. Knelt over the balcony with his elbows braced on the railing. From the cradle of your arms, you turn your head. You brave a glance at him, but only a glance. He’s already canted towards you, his handsome face cupped in his palm.
You look away, your face hot and your heart racing.
You don’t need to see the mien of his face to know how pleased his grin is. You can feel it, like some kind of invisible tether plucked between the two of you. Singing high and clear in your chest.
“So you didn’t notice me sneaking upstairs so I could slip out to the balcony?”
“Well,” he says with a charming laugh that makes you want to bury your face into the nest of your arms, “I didn’t realize it was your goal to be here all by yourself. Seemed like a lonely thing to want.”
You’re about to retort, about to tell him something along the lines of ‘Yeah it sure is’ or ‘You would know’, when you stop yourself. Because you’d be right.
And that thought makes you sad.
Kaeya has a regular perch on this balcony. Second to the bar, this seemed to be his favorite place to be.
You turn to him, looking up through your lashes at his expectant expression. He awaits your rebuttal. Your sarcasm. Your snark. Your comment that borders on mean. A glimpse of fang to protect your soft underbelly.
You don’t give it to him.
“Yeah it is. But we’re not alone up here tonight, are we?”
His face falls and it’s the closest thing to taken off guard that you’ve ever seen. You can understand the enjoyment Kaeya gets out of taking you by surprise and flustering you. It’s just as fun when the tables are turned.
A moment passes, quick as a blink, where he gathers himself once more. Putting his features back into their artfully choreographed positions. For that split second, that fracture in time, you see him off balance. His face a little flushed. His eye unable to meet yours. His mouth parting on a sharp inhale.
It enamors you far more than you want. Far more than you thought you could still fall into your affections for this man.
“Are you flirting with me?” he asks, and you know he’s grasping at straws.
You smile.
“Whatever you want, birthday boy.” Kaeya inhales sharply once more and you don’t bother to hide a smug grin. You lean into him, but still not close enough to touch. “Tell me what I can do to make it an extra special day for you and I’ll do it.”
“That’s a mighty big offer to leave open ended.”
“My generosity is remarkable.”
He laughs and the sound of it fills your chest with warmth even as your press your hands to your cold cheeks. “How ever can I repay you?”
“It’s a gift,” you tell him, fighting back a shiver at a sharp gust of wind. “You’re debt free. No tab to pay off. I offer myself up to you freely.”
Kaeya gives you a long look then. His good eye twinkles, that strange pupil of his shimmering with light cast from the lanterns and moon.
There’s a shutter over his face, a thin veil that keeps his expression nigh unreadable. He could be contemplating some terrible demand. Some scheme that will leave you running lighter on mora, energy, or pride. Maybe all three.
He could ask of you something awful.
There is no question that you would do it.
But there is also no question that he would not ask it.
Just like that, his demeanor softens into something intimate and soft. You don’t know if anyone else has ever seen such an aspect of him as this.
You don’t ask.
You do look away.
It’s one of those freezing nights. Crisp and cold and deliciously clear. You can see the constellations above you as though they had been freshly pressed into the sky. The moon hanging sickle sharp and silver bright. The heavens watch on quietly. And behind you, the muffled din of music and laughter. The reminder of friends and family and joy.
You want to live in this moment forever.
“It’s a lovely night.”
“It is.”
Kaeya stretches his hand out the slightest bit- spreads his fingers a fraction. The tips of your pinkies touch.
You stretch out your hand the slightest bit- spread your fingers a fraction. Your finger slides beneath his and the two of you curl into each other, unable to avoid one another’s gravity.
Kaeya laughs and it’s a breathless sound. It warms the cool air of the night. The stars seem to twinkle all the more for it.
“You’re cold,” he says after a long moment and pulls away. A twang of grief pings in your chest and you curl your fingers back together.
There’s a rustle of clothing and you squeak in surprise when Kaeya wraps something around your shoulder. Its warm and soft and smells divine. Only after you’ve begun to nuzzle into it do you realize it to be his mantle. You bury your face into it all the deeper, hoping to hide the way your expression softens into pudding.
“Hold still- let me put this on you,” he chides when you continue to wiggle about. You stand up straight for him as he fluffs out the lush fur. The edges drift apart slightly and he pinches them closed with one hand. The other brushes your cheek, bereft of purpose. He doesn’t even pretend that it’s busy with some task, letting the warmth of him linger against your cool cheek.
“Better?”
You look up at Kaeya from beneath your lashes. Taking in his regal nose and bright eye. The dip of his throat and the curve of his collarbone peeking through his low cut blouse. Lit by starlight he is so beautiful it makes your heart ache with fruitless want.
You nod, rubbing against his fingers. Letting the two of you pretend that he isn’t stroking them against your velvet skin. His thumb to your cheek. Your lips to his knuckles.
“Much.”
In a couple of minutes time someone will open the door, searching for one of the two of you.
In a couple of minutes time someone will open the door, spilling out music and laughter and cheering.
In a couple pf minutes time someone will open the door, setting the moon back into its place and the stars back into rhythm to bring you out of this fracture in time where the world is just you and kaeya and the warm embrace of this perfect moment.
But for now the moon simply looks on wanly- the stars glitter like frost in the night sky- and Kaeya, palm warm where he cups your face, leans into the gravity of you.
men who immediately lean all of their weight onto you whenever they kiss you, until you’re almost toppling back and have to rely on them holding you to keep yourself steady… made to fall victim to the way their hands squeeze all over your body
no because there just is something so delicious about the idea of bakugou katsuki, a grown man with an extreme, immeasurable power, that has faced death itself and come back stronger than even he understood, that regularly puts himself into dangerous, violent, brutal situations, that is loud and unapologetic, that is afraid of nothing and no one, would never half-ass anything, that people look up to and admire for his strength and determination—
and he's facing down a crush for the very first time, completely clueless.
notes: I felt really bad about leaving you guys with so much Atsumu angst in those fake wedding date hcs that I decided to write some proper, fluffy New Girl inspired hcs.
warnings: mentions of past infidelity but otherwise happiness guaranteed
💋 It all started when you walked in on your boyfriend of four years cheating on you. With literally nowhere else to go (considering you had moved in with him and it was his name on the lease), you had shown up on Atsumu’s doorstep in a daze, asking if you could stay in his spare room for a few days while you tried to come to terms with your new reality, which is that you were now single and homeless.
💋 You and Atsumu had always been friendly, even if you had never exactly been friends. He was always the guy that you could have a laugh with in a group setting, but you never knew him well enough to actually hang out just the two of you. In fact, the only reason you even ended up at his place was because you had dropped your purse (which contained your phone, wallet, cash, and credit cards) on the living room floor in pure shock when you saw some woman who wasn’t you with her mouth around your boyfriend’s dick, and Atsumu was the only person you knew who lived within walking distance.
warnings: 18+ minors dni, fluff, aged-up characters, mutual pining, friends to lovers, idiots in love, thank god for nobara, like seriously nobara for Best Wingman 2022
notes: this was supposed to be only 500 words but best boy deserves all the love. the inspiration for this came from best boy thinking that girls don't like him and the first 30 seconds of this clip from running man.
words: 4k
minors, blank, and ageless blogs do not interact
Yuuji knows that he’s terrible at keeping secrets. Or rather, he knows that he’s terrible at lying, which you usually need to do in order to keep a secret.
But even knowing that, he’s positive that this secret is one that no one has caught onto — especially not you. Or at least he was positive until one night when he goes out with you, Kugisaki, and Fushiguro to the new izakaya that Kugisaki has been wanting to try.
He thinks he plays everything as smoothly as he has been for the last few months.
When you sit down at the table next to him rather than with Kugisaki, he doesn’t make a big deal about it. Even though he wants to sit up straighter and smile proudly because you chose to sit next to him, he acts like this is just any other night out with his friends.
When you look over his shoulder at the menu rather than ask the waitress for another, he simply hands it to you to look over first, telling you that he’ll wait until you’re done. Even though he’s flustered from having your face so close to his, he pretends that his heart isn’t racing so quickly that he’s worried it might jump out of his ribcage.
When you’ve had a couple of beers and start leaning your shoulder against his every time you laugh a little too hard at something, he merely shies away with a laugh. Even though his arm is itching to wrap itself around your waist and tug you properly into his side, he just pushes you back towards your side of the table.
When you start to turn your attention solely to him, unintentionally excluding Kugisaki and Fushiguro, he makes sure to turn back to them and include them in the conversation, asking for their opinions. Even though he wants to cocoon himself with you away from the izakaya’s less than intimate setting, he makes sure that the two of you are never off in your own world.
And when both you and Fushiguro leave slightly early since you both have a mission together the next morning, he merely tells you to get home safely, seemingly satisfied when Fushiguro assures them that he’ll make sure you get home alright and that Yuuji and Kugisaki should stay.
Even though he wants nothing more than to push back and tell Fushiguro that he’ll walk you home, he simply nods with a smile and gives you both a wave goodbye before turning to Kugisaki. Because that’s what a friend would do.
Only, he can’t help himself and even though he’s facing Kugisaki and is sincerely trying to listen to what she’s saying, his eyes and attention are still on your retreating form as you trail after Fushiguro towards the exit.
He notices that your head has dropped slightly forward and your shoulders have slumped. And when you reach the door and you pause before looking back towards him and Kugisaki, he notices that there’s something...not outright sad, but definitely something disappointed in your expression.
But when you see that he’s already looking at you, you force the emotion from your face with a smile and give him one last wave before ducking through the doorway, hurrying after Fushiguro so quickly that Yuuji doesn’t even have time to return your wave with another one of his own.
His gaze remains fixed on the door, already missing the sight of you. But then he breathes a sigh of relief because he’s made it one more day without you or anyone else discovering his secret.
“Oi! Are you listening to me?!” Kugisaki’s voice is so loud as she shouts at him that all of the other noise in the bustling izakaya sounds quiet in comparison.
“Sorry, I got distracted,” he says as he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck. He picks up his beer and takes a sip...
“I said, what’s going on with the two of you?”
...only to spit it out all over the table.
She looks less than impressed as she watches him splutter, her lips curling with disgust at the mess he’s just made.
“You’re gross,” she huffs with a roll of her eyes as he rushes to clean the table with a wad of napkins.
“It was an accident!” he protests but Kugisaki is already moving on.
“I thought you two liked each other,” she frowns and even without a sip of beer, he manages to choke on his own saliva, breaking into a coughing fit and needing to pound his chest on his fist to clear his airway.
The entire time, she continues to look him over with an appraising eye, as if she can suss out the answer to her question on her own.
“L-like each other?! Us?!” he manages to stutter out in between coughs and she raises an unconvinced eyebrow.
“Don’t even bother trying to deny it. You’d have to be blind to miss how you both get these disgusting hearts in your eyes every time you’re in the same room.” As if emphasizing her point, a repulsed shiver runs through her body.
Yuuji takes a sip of his water to calm his racing heart and give himself a moment to think of the least incriminating response that he could give.
Obviously, despite what Kugisaki says, he needs to keep denying it. But more importantly...
You can’t like him. He would’ve noticed. Right?
Suddenly, a pair of perfectly manicured fingers are being snapped in his face and he blinks as he shakes off the daze that he had just found himself lost in.
“So, what’s going on? Are you mad at her or something?” she asks, looking properly interested for the first time since this conversation has started.
“Mad?” he frowns, his forehead wrinkling in confusion. Why would he be mad at you? With how head over heels he is for you, he’s not sure if he could ever be truly mad at you. “Why do you think I’m mad at her?”
She doesn’t say it, but Yuuji is positive that Kugisaki is calling him an idiot in her head.
“Are you serious?” He nods cluelessly and she rolls her eyes. “I keep telling her how pathetic it is to watch her being so obvious but apparently it’s not obvious enough.”
She then folds her arms on the table before leaning towards him and he can’t help but feel like he’s about to be lectured. She lifts one hand up and raises a finger.
“She sat down next to you and you told her she should sit next to me instead.”
A second finger goes up.
“Every time she even got close to you, you acted like she had some sort of contagious disease. You even told her to stay on her side of the table.”
A third finger.
“She tried to feed you,” she pauses to let out a scoff, like she’s personally offended that you actually tried to do so. “But you just pushed her away and told her she was being gross.”
A fourth finger.
“She clearly wanted you to walk her home and you didn’t even offer. You just told her to make it home safely.” An annoyed look then passes over her face. “Not that Fushiguro is any help. He’s practically as clueless as the two of you.”
She returns to the matter at hand by raising a fifth and final finger.
“And then you only talked to her if you had to and wouldn’t even look directly at her until she was leaving.”
He drops his eyes down to the table, the corners of his lips turning slightly down. When all the evidence is laid out before him, he can see why Kugisaki would think he’s mad at you. Do you think he's mad at you? Is that why you looked so disheartened when you left? Is your disappointment his fault?
“It was so pathetic that it was like watching someone kick a puppy,” she continues and his frown grows deeper.
A pit of anxiety is beginning to form in his stomach.
“I just didn’t want her to get the wrong idea…” he mumbles as he scratches the back of his head nervously.
“Which would be?”
Yuuji can feel the heat rushing to his cheeks and he doesn’t need a mirror to know that his face is now bright red. He can’t bring himself to look up from his beer.
“T-that…I l-like her…”
The lie is so terrible that even to his own ears it sounds weak. Kugisaki clearly agrees because she blows a very unrefined raspberry.
“Are you seriously trying to convince me that you don’t?” she asks and he can hear how annoyed she is by his denial.
He takes a deep breath to steady himself and lifts his head to meet her gaze, a look of resolve on his face. He crosses both arms over his chest and sits up straighter in his seat.
“I don’t like her,” he tries again, speaking with the same level of gravity as if this were a mission to take on a Special Grade curse. He fights the prideful smile that’s fighting to form on his lips at how confident the lie sounds.
But then Kugisaki smirks dangerously and trepidation begins to quickly creep up on him. He’s almost positive that he’s just stepped in some sort of trap.
“Liar.”
Without another word, she picks her phone off the table and begins to navigate through it to find whatever it is that she’s looking for. He knows that she’s found it when she lets out a dark laugh that has his fight or flight response running haywire.
Her phone screen is suddenly being shoved in his face and he immediately squints from how bright it is, like she wants to make sure he doesn’t miss whatever it is that she’s trying to show him. He has to lean back slightly in his seat to properly see what’s on the screen.
Once he realizes what he’s looking at, he freezes.
Taking up her entire screen is a picture of you and Yuuji standing together, both facing the camera. But you’re looking somewhere else off the right, a wide smile on your face as you laugh at whatever it is that’s caught your interest. You look so happy and so carefree that he can feel his heart pounding so hard in his chest that it hurts in the most wonderful way.
But then his eyes shift to look at himself and his jaw falls open. He’s neither looking at the camera or off in the same direction as you. No, he’s looking down at you with the softest smile and with so much warmth that he realizes that he’s an idiot for thinking that his secret hasn’t been written across his face for months.
His mouth opens and closes dumbly as any words refuse to leave him. The longer he looks at the picture, the more exposed he feels until it becomes too much. And with his face and ears on fire, he manages to shove Kugisaki’s arm away.
“T-that’s just one picture,” he mumbles shyly, his eyes darting around the izakaya, refusing to look back at her and the smug smile that’s surely on her face.
“Just one picture?” she asks, the three words absolutely dripping with faux innocence that makes him wince because he knows that he’s just stepped into yet another one of her traps.
Like the idiot he is, he looks at her in time to see her hitting the back button on her screen before the phone being shoved back at him, this time into his hand. And when he sees what she’s showing him, he knows it’s absolutely useless to try and deny his feelings for you any longer — at least not to Kugisaki.
Because she has an entire album — labeled with just a vomiting emoji — full of pictures of you and Yuuji together.
His thumb moves on its own to tap the first one at the start of the album and when it enlarges, he’s met with the exact same expression on his face as in the one Kugisaki had first shown him.
Only, it’s definitely not the same picture. It’s mid-day instead of early evening. You have a scarf wrapped around your neck and he has a jacket. The both of you are sitting outside of a coffee shop instead of standing next to one another. You’re even looking at the camera with a playfully annoyed expression, pointing accusingly at Nobara and your mouth is unattractively opened as the picture is taken in the middle of whatever it is you’re saying to her.
But Yuuji looks exactly the same — obviously and painfully enamored with you as he watches you with the warmest smile.
He scrolls on to the next one and is met with the same expression on his face.
He scrolls again. The same expression.
Again. The same smile.
Again. The same soft eyes.
Again. Again. Again.
But as he scrolls, he starts to realize something. This album isn’t just full of pictures of him looking at you but also of pictures of you looking back at him.
Another scroll.
You’re facing each other and his head is tossed back as he laughs but you’re looking up at him like he hangs the moon.
Another.
He’s holding an umbrella over the two of you and trying to peek out from under its edge at the sky with a frown but you only have eyes for him.
Another.
You’re holding out an ice cream cone for him to try, a look of pure happiness on your face as he leans in to taste it.
Another.
He’s looking at you with that same lovestruck expression but it’s perfectly matched by the one on yours.
He scrolls again and finds himself so entranced by the next picture that he’s unable to move past it.
There’s nothing particularly intimate about it. There were plenty of other pictures that were more revealing of both of your feelings. But there’s something about this one that has him feeling so warm and happy.
You’re sitting next to each other on the same side of a booth at a restaurant. There are empty plates and dishes in front of you. The restaurant is bright. He’s in his trademark hoodie and you’re in a simple t-shirt. He can even see the bill on the table, waiting to be paid. It’s a decidedly unromantic setting.
But you’re pressed right against him, your body turned fully into his side. Your face is cradled in your hands as you lean into him with a wide smile and playful eyes. Your chin is practically resting on his shoulder. He can see how you’re trying — and seemingly failing — to hold in your own giggles.
His head is resting back against the tall back of the booth and his own smile is so big that he can see all of his teeth as the picture catches him mid-laugh. His closed eyes are in the shape of two crescents as his rosy, blushing cheeks are bunched up from his smile. The line of his shoulders is completely relaxed and he can see how just as you’re leaning into him, he’s leaning right back into you.
Whatever anxiety he was feeling earlier in his stomach is gone and in its place are the same, exhilarating butterflies that he’s come to exclusively associate with you.
He remembers this moment so clearly.
The four of you had gone out for lunch a few weeks ago. The waitress had just dropped off the check at the end of the meal. She made a comment implying that she thought that you and Yuuji were on a double date with Fushiguro and Kugisaki. The latter two had been quick to protest, fighting over one another to be the first to assure her that they were not a couple.
And while she had quickly apologized, she then turned to you and Yuuji, said the two of you made an adorable couple, and then left before anyone could explain that you were only friends. But unlike Fushiguro and Kugisaki, neither of you had felt the need to correct her assumption.
Instead, you had both laughed together and the laughter had been the sincere, honest type that could be felt throughout the whole body.
“Well, Nobara? Do we make an adorable couple?” you had asked through your giggles before playfully posing.
Yuuji has spent a lot of time over the last few months trying to figure out what it is he feels for you. Is it a crush that will go away if he just ignores it? Is it just physical attraction that has him thinking of you in ways that he definitely shouldn’t be? Or is it more?
As he looks at this picture and remembers how happy he was when it was taken, he realizes he doesn’t need to wonder anymore. He knows exactly how he feels.
He’s in love with you.
But he’s unable to bask in the revelation for long.
“Ugh, this one’s the absolute worst,” Kugisaki grumbles and he looks up from her phone to see that she’s leaning across the table to peer past him and see which picture he’s on. “It looks like you guys are in the airport on the way to your honeymoon. It’s disgusting.”
As she makes a show of gagging, he looks back down at the screen and begins to swipe through the pictures at a much quicker pace. But as he does so, something occurs to him.
“Y’know, Kugisaki, this is kind of creepy,” he tells her, his forehead wrinkled thoughtfully. “What are you, a stalker or something?”
“Excuse me?” she growls and her hand shoots out to grab her phone back but he quickly pulls it out of her reach when a banner notification appears at the top of the screen.
You 10:13pm
Nobaraaaaaaaaaaaaaa 😭😭😭😭
There are plenty of ethical questions around what he should do. Clearly, this is a message for Kugisaki. This is her phone. The message has her name.
This isn’t a message that he should be opening.
But he’s only human. And he’s in love with you. And you’re obviously upset. And he needs to know what you’re going to say to her that you wouldn’t say to him.
So, he doesn’t even second guess himself as he taps the notification and is brought to your message history with Kugisaki just as another one comes in.
You 10:13pm
TELL ME WHAT I HAVE TO DO TO GET HIM TO NOTICE ME 😤🙏
Yuuji’s eyes go wide. He’s so stunned that he doesn’t even notice the three dots at the bottom of the message. When the next message pops up, his face turns bright red as he reads it.
You 10:14pm
I bet I could be standing in front of him with my shirt off and my tits hanging out and he’d just offer me his hoodie to cover up without a second glance 😣
You’re wrong. 100% wrong. He’s pictured you in just about every state of undress possible. Just the thought of you standing before him topless has him shifting uncomfortably in his seat. His thumbs twitch with the urge to reply back and assure you that if that were the case, he would be doing much more than just taking a second glance.
You 10:14pm
Pls don’t tell me I have terrible taste in men again 🙃
He finally manages to look up at Kugisaki, his mouth opening and closing as he tries as hard as he can to put his tangled mess of thoughts into words. He holds up her phone and frantically starts pointing at your rapid string of messages.
“Is she talking about me?” he practically shouts and now it’s his turn to lean over the table towards her.
She rolls her eyes and reaches out for her phone only for him to pull it back before she can take it, holding onto it like it’s a lifeline.
“Who else would she be talking about? You think she wants to fuck Fushiguro?” she sarcastically asks and he frowns as he looks back to her phone, scrolling up slightly to look back at the first message.
He knows she’s only making fun of him but just the thought of anyone else touching you the way he’s literally been dreaming of has him suddenly feeling nauseous. He sighs and sets her phone on the table, the screen facing down so that he’s not tempted to keep looking over your messages.
“She can’t like me,” he states with so much certainty that it might as well be a fact. He rubs the back of his neck as his face flushes again, this time with embarrassment. “Girls don’t like me…”
Kugisaki is uncharacteristically quiet and when he finally glances up at her, all of the usual irritation and impatience that she’s known for has receded. Instead, there’s something uncharacteristically kind about the way she’s looking at him and in any other situation, he would recommend they go to see Shoko immediately.
She raises a teasing eyebrow and the corner of her lips turns up in a small grin.
“Gojo-sensei always says that jujutsu sorcerers need to be crazy if they wanna be great,” she points out as she rests her chin on a closed fist. “And she’s a great jujutsu sorcerer, isn’t she?”
Yuuji begins to relax in his seat, a smile slowly forming on his face as he mulls over her words.
“Yeah, she is,” he agrees softly.
The phone vibrates on the table, grabbing the attention of both of them as they look down at it. He remains still, unsure if he should be looking at it. But then Kugisaki reaches towards it and turns it over so that they can see what the latest message says.
You 10:25pm
What if you’re wrong?
You 10:25pm
What if Yuuji doesn’t like me?
His heart begins to race as he panics over your question. Has he already ruined everything? Even over text, he can feel how small you sound — how self-conscious and sad you are. And he’s the reason why you feel that way.
“Are you gonna do anything about that?”
Kugisaki’s voice snaps him out of his spiraling and his eyes dart up to look at her to find her watching him expectantly. He blinks dumbly a few times.
“Well?” she prompts.
He pulls his phone out of his pocket so quickly that it almost flies out of his hand. His thumbs fly across the screen as he types out a message to you and hits send.
Yuuji 10:27pm
Do you want to go out?
Yuuji 10:27pm
Like on a date
Yuuji 10:27pm
With me
Yuuji 10:28pm
I want to take you a date
A blue checkmark appears next to each message immediately and he knows that you’ve read them. But then, nothing happens.
After a few minutes of waiting, three dots appear at the bottom only to disappear just as quickly. They come back but are gone a moment later.
They keep appearing and disappearing over and over and over again.
Finally, when he’s not sure he can take the tension any longer and is ready to toss his phone across the restaurant and never look at it again, a heart appears next to his first message.
Then another heart appears to the next one.
Then another and another as you react to all four messages individually. He’s smiling so wide that his cheeks are hurting.
And then...
You 10:35pm
I would love that 🥰
“I hope you know this means you’re in my debt for life now,” Kugisaki interrupts and he turns his big smile up towards her.
“Whatever you say, Kugisaki,” he easily says, going so far as to give her a thumbs up. “If you had to stalk anyone, I’m glad it was us.”
Even the lukewarm beer that’s suddenly thrown in his face isn’t enough to ruin his happiness. He doesn’t think anything could.
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