Being On Katsuki’s Back While He’s Doing Push-ups

A helping hand

“kei, do you ever think about how strange it is that we've never fought?” you ask, limbs tangled with his as you cuddle on his bed.

it’s 10:03 PM and you’re doing your best to fight against the chilling, icy atmosphere of tsukishima’s room. for some reason, he likes to sleep like a vampire.

“do you want to?” he offers with an arm wrapped around your shoulders. tsukki doesn’t even open his eyes when he responds, too sleepy to entertain another one of your late night overthinking sessions.

“no,” you say calmly, “but we’ve been together for 7 months. we must either be like, the greatest couple of all time or the exact opposite.”

you feel his chest rise and deflate against your head as he lets an overly dramatic sigh.

you knew tsukishima kei wasn’t one for pda. hell, it was one of the things you loved about him. he knew how to make you feel loved without having to scream it to the world.

like that one time on one of your first dates, when you had accidentally fallen asleep on the soft grass of the park while waiting for his weekend practice to end. you woke up with a hand massaging your scalp.

“how long have you been waiting there?” you giggle, rising from your slumber as you rub your eyes awake. he pulls away, casually avoiding your gaze. “why didn’t you wake me?”

kei only shrugs, “you looked peaceful.”

or that other time you got sick for a week and couldn’t make it to school, so he immediately visited you as soon as you got better and brought his backpack with him.

“i got two copies of all the homeworks due next week, so you don’t have to ask the teachers for them.” he unpacks his notes and fishes out two pens from his bag before turning to you. “come, i’ll teach you everything you missed.”

your teachers praised you for how responsible you were, and told you how much they appreciated that you took the initiative to study.

yeah, you totally did that.

or like right now, and all the other nights you’ve spent at his place. because unbeknownst to you, tsukishima kei sets up his bedroom every single time you visit. he tidies up, cleaning even spots that you would never think to look at. but most importantly, and tsukishima knows this routine by heart, he turns the a/c to the highest setting so you’d be forced to cuddle against him underneath his sheets.

“the former,” is all replies with, and you scoff, rolling your eyes.

“but seriously though. how lucky are we to never have fought even after seven months.”

tsukki sighs again, before reluctantly revealing, “we don’t fight because i make it a point to always agree with you.”

you’re taken aback by his words, sitting up slightly as you look him in the eyes, though his are still closed as he tries to focus on sleeping.

“...huh?”

“idiot,” he teases. maybe he thinks calling you names will cover up for how unbelievably sweet he’s being right now, “why would i want to argue with you?” he shifts, trying to subtly move his face away so you don’t see him fully.

“but i can’t always have my way, you know. a relationship should be 50/50, right?”

“not ours.” he presses your head back against his chest, and you hear his heartbeat fasten a little. “you’re the boss.”

BONUS: “and you’ve never paid in your life anyway. you don’t believe in that 50/50 bullshit.” “hey!” “i don’t even know what your wallet looks like.”

@kokokoula this one’s for u <3

i don't WANT to read smut right now

i WANT to read a passionate, poetic, jaw dropping, tears streaking down my face, heart wrenching, giggle inducing, feet kicking, cringy yet amazing, gorgeous story written by someone who apologizes for english not being their first language(they're the best writers ever) which has 4 chapters and then makes me scream because it hasnt been updated in months and the author is mia

iwaizumi attacking you with wet kisses all over your face while you’re bathing in the sun after he comes out from the pool soaking wet.

you’re laying on a chair beside the pool, bathing in the sunny glow that graces your skin with a comforting warmth. not in the mood for a dip, you flip through the pages of your book leisurely as you enjoy the summer heat.

iwaizumi climbs up the ladder out of the pool, all done cooling off in the water. he grabs the neatly folded towel resting on the lounge chair saved for him right next to yours, quickly patting off the beads of water resting on his skin before ruffling the cloth through his short spiky hair. the view is nice. the summer view is nice too—the buzz of bees flying around and yellow dandelions scattered across the lawn—but the real view is the whole 179.3 centimeters standing tall next to you.

“why didn’t you join me in the water?” he asks, squinting as the sun hits his eyes.

“didn’t feel like getting wet,” you say, eyes still trained on the words on your page.

“i can get you wet,” he says with a cheeky grin, one that doesn’t falter even as you wack the book into his thigh.

he chuckles, leaning down and beginning to pepper wet open mouthed kisses all over your face. the water still remnant on his lips wipes all over you as he presses them on your cheeks, your forehead, your temple, your jaw, the tip of your nose, practically anywhere else he can reach, and then finally your lips.

in the midst of his banter you laugh, trying to fight him to no relent. “iwa, stop! you’re getting me all wet!”

“can’t help it. you look gorgeous in that bathing suit,” he murmurs, trying to find any sort of real estate he can to press his lips on.

you put the book down, using your hands to try and claw at his face and push it away. he’s too persistent in slobbering all over your face like a dog for your attempts to work, though. he just starts kissing your palms until they feel numb.

once he’s finally done attacking you with his kisses, he pulls away and simply stays there in front of you, leaning over the chair and grinning at you, his face not even inches away from yours.

“what?”

“nothing,” his teeth are still bared, his smile reaching from ear to ear.

“you’re grinning like an idiot for no reason. i don’t see what’s so funny.” with another scolding yet playful slap of your book to his leg, you open up the page you had dog eared and try to continue reading without his disruption.

to no surprise, it’s pointless as he continues to try and press as many of your buttons as he can. “you look really pretty under the sun.”

you glance up from the words on the page, mouth open and ready for a witty remark. you fall flat at the sight of him, though. the suds still on his face and the wet strands of hair clinging to his forehead make all of the blood in your body flood to your cheeks. every one of his perfections—because in your eyes he has no imperfections—are perfectly complimented by the sun’s rays that highlight his tan skin and the contours of his stupidly handsome face.

the thoughts rushing through your mind make you fall short, and the words you look pretty under the sun too almost slip out before you can catch them. you want to tell him that, but you’re supposed to be irritated with him for slobbering all over your face. sticking to the script, you just look away and try to focus on reading. but iwaizumi can tell you’re just lost in your thoughts when your gaze doesn’t move across the page.

you catch the way his grin fades into a more genuine smile of the sorts, one that shows he’s really happy over you becoming a blushing mess because of him and not just trying to tease you into oblivion.

from the spot in his own lounge chair that he’s taken while you’ve been processing what had just happened, you hear him speak. “join me in the pool now?”

that earns him a book thrown at the head and a loud, firm, no.

masterlist | taglist | tags: @scoupsworld @amaliaaliena @mires765 a/n: realistically i’d be in the pool playing mermaids but that’s besides the point.

© evamame 2025. all rights reserved. please do not repost, modify, steal, plagiarize, or translate my work.

Fitness obsessed bf Iwaizumi and self-care obsessed gf. Iwaizumi is always encouraging you to go on walks with him, try some of his protein shakes, get a good nights rest, stretch etc. While you are always reminding him to wear spf and use a wide variety of lotions and creams. Sometimes dating you seems like he's dating an actual dermatologist with all of the information you know about what each type of acid does to skin, what lotions are for what skin type etc. He ends up getting talked into wearing face masks with you at least once a week, and sometimes the hand and feet masks if you notice that the skin on those areas is especially dry for Hajime. His favorite part of wearing these masks with you is when you dutifully apply your holy grail lip mask to his lips. Your touch is so gentle and he loves the concentrated look on your face whenever you apply it for him. And a bonus is that it tastes like you.

the three reasons yuji itadori stayed, and the one reason he couldn’t.

needless to say, yuji itadori was every girl’s type. handsome, funny, kind— yuji was the type of boy you wouldn’t hesitate to bring home. mothers loved him, children adored him, and you? well... you loved him. at least that’s what he tells himself every night before he goes to bed.

you and yuji had known each other since you were children. he had grown accustomed to your habits and your fussy attitude. both your families have always known you two were made for each other. from the second you’d met, you clicked immediately. yuji’s first reason. because his mind simply didn’t believe that you two weren’t fated for each other. you went to the same school, rode the same bus, lived in the same neighborhood, were classmates for years, and you were even in the same friend group, not to mention how everyone expected you to be the perfect, untouchable couple. the two of you were meant to know each other. the universe was practically shoving you together. it simply didn’t make sense for whatever higher being or supernatural force it was, to set all that up, only for the two of you to not end up together.

and so came yuji’s second reason. you were all he’d ever known. honestly, he thought you were all he’d ever need to know. the more time you spend with someone, the harder it is to imagine your life without them, and so naturally, yuji thought you were his. for a lifetime. for this lifetime. in retrospect, he sees how stupid it is. but he was fifteen and dumb, and so were you. so he doesn’t blame you for it— more like he can’t. because yuji itadori, the gentleman that he is, could never hate you.

which is exactly what yuji’s third reason is. he simply doesn’t have an ounce of hatred in his perfectly chiseled bones, and certainly not for you. no matter how hard his friends convinced him that you were bad for him, that you were toxic, that you were this and that, yuji’s mind simply did not function like that. he believed that if you truly loved a person, that love would stay within you always. maybe it’d get smaller, or perhaps get buried with all the love you have for other things, but love wasn’t something you could get rid of. his understanding of love was that similar of a scar; imperfect, yes, yet resilient. timeless, if you will, because to love is to endure and feel and wait. and wait, he did. for 6 years, yuji waited. he practically gave you his youth.

and so on your 18th birthday, he finally musters up the courage. he’d ask you out. the stars shone brightly as they decorated the evening sky, the breeze dancing around the two of you as you both sat up on the rooftop of your house. 12:32 AM. yuji sighs.

“i like you.”

“...i know.”

“do you...”

“i can’t give you what you want, ‘ji.” your voice cuts through like a knife, and despite the message, yuji hopes. he clings onto the use of his nickname like his life depends on it. slowly, subconsciously, he looks at your face for traces of familiarity. not love, neither adoration, just... plain familiarity.

he comes short.

“i get that.” yuji looks down, fidgeting with his fingers. he lied. he doesn’t get it, but yuji’s nothing if not a gentleman. he’d rather lie than put you in an awkward position. “i just figured...” he trails, ending up in a scoff. “figured i’d at least try, you know?”

and finally, you look at him. tears well up in his waterline as his gaze avoids yours. if you look closely enough, you can see his heart breaking and God, you never meant for it to come to this. you let out a shaky breath as you wrap your arms around him, unable to speak.

yuji shrugs your arms off, giving you a slight chuckle. “i’m good, i’m good. sorry, i just...”

“no, come on, ‘ji. don’t be difficult. let me console you,” and there it is again— that stupid, stupid, stupid term of endearment. you wrap your arms around him once more, bringing your bodies closer together, only this time, yuji can’t find it in himself to reject you. he lets you hug him as he sniffs, clearing his throat. he tries his hardest to pull himself together.

“i’m really sorry—”

“shh, shh. don’t worry about that right now.” you lay your head against his back as he slouches, pressing your cheek against the warm, navy blue hoodie of his that he wears like a uniform. “but you do know why i’m doing this, yeah?”

he nods, eyes finally meeting yours for the first time tonight as he looks back at you. “you’re not ready.”

you bite your lip, gaze lowering almost in shame. “everything i touch turns to ashes,” you say, “i can’t lose you like i have everything else.”

yuji knew all too well about your constant attempts at self sabotage. truthfully, it was one of the things you loved most about him. despite everything, he stayed. despite everything, he chose to understand and love you.

because love is a choice, and yuji itadori wakes up everyday to choose you.

“you could never lose me,” he says.

“this way, i won’t have to.” you blink up at him, lips wobbling as you start to tear up.

“for what it’s worth, ‘ji, if i could choose anyone, it’d be you.”

You know what's better than fluff? Dark fluff.

The kind where devotion borders on obsession, where love isn't just tender—it's consuming.

"I'd do anything for you, love," he murmurs, voice smooth, unwavering. "Anything you desire, and it's yours."

And the other doesn't hesitate, voice laced with something raw, something desperate.

"I want her to split me open—dig her fingers into my ribs and pry them apart. To hold my heart in her hands, feel the pulse of it against her palms, my blood staining her skin. I want her to pick my bones clean, crack them open, suck the marrow dry. I want to be ruined by her, consumed until there's nothing left of me but the taste of her name on what's left of my tongue."

Because love, when it’s deep enough, is a hunger—one that begs to be fed.

“do you think we’re soulmates?”

“i don’t believe in that shit.” katsuki’s hand tangles in your messy hair sprawled against the pillow he fought you over and ultimately gave to you with a small roll of his eyes.

you huff against his chest, frowning at his words. “you don’t think we were meant to be?”

“hell no.” he grins almost a little mockingly

“why not..?” you mutter, thankful your face is out of his sight because your disappointed expression is really quite laughable.

it’s silent for a long moment, and in the dark room, you assume he fell asleep. you sigh, cautiously readjusting your position to be more comfortable as you shut your eyes, ready to sleep.

that is until his hand drops from your hair onto your arm, rubbing small circles. “i don’t think i’m meant to be with anyone.” he whispers, staring up at his ceiling, still covered in glow in the dark stars from when he was a kid. “i think i just got lucky.”

you keep your eyes closed, half asleep as you respond immediately, “well, i don’t believe in luck. everything happens for a reason, suki.”

“that’s your prerogative, i guess.” he hums, his motions slowing down against your arm, resting there lazily.

“mm,” you wrap your arms around his torso, your cheek smushing against his chest.

another long moment passes, and katsuki’s still staring at the ceiling, lost in thought.

“you asleep?” he murmurs, careful not to wake you if you are.

“no, baby.”

he nods to himself, leaning down to plant a kiss on your head. “okay. i love you. thank you.” he whispers before resting back on his bed and shutting his eyes.

“thank you for what?” you reply, smiling softly at his affection.

he shrugs lightly before sleep takes over him, his arms engulfed around you without another word.

teehee, shopping with bf! katsuki for the first time is a whole new experience.

you dragged him to the mall under the pretense of just browsing. katsuki grumbles, complains the whole car ride, mutters something about how he'd rather "eat glass" than spend a weekend in a fluorescent-lit hellscape.

but the second you tug on his wrist and smile up at him, he shuts up and follows. what you don’t expect?

how much of a problem he becomes the second you enter the fitting room.

you're barely five minutes into trying on outfits when it starts. you step out, smoothing down a dress, turning side to side in the mirror.

you barely manage a “what do you think?” before he drops the phone he wasn’t even looking at and sits up straighter.

“turn around.”

you blink. “huh?”

“lemme see the back.”

you do. he whistles low, then squints. “try that in the other color.”

you raise a brow. “oh, so now you care?”

“tch. i care when it looks like that on you.”

from then on, it’s over. every. single. outfit. he's like that.

“yeah, do a little spin.”

“too tight in the chest. not that i’m complaining.”

“damn, sweets. you tryna kill me or sumthin'?”

he lounges on the little bench like he owns the place—legs spread, arms crossed, eyes locked on you like you’re center stage and he’s the only judge that matters. the store’s mirror might show you the front, but he’s giving full commentary on the back. and the sides. and the neckline.

he’s unreasonably hot while doing it too. hood half-up, jaw sharp, legs spread like he’s got thoughts about every skirt you shimmy into.

and the worst part? you start playing it up.

slipping out of the fitting room with a little strut. spinning slow just to watch his jaw tighten. running your hands down your sides, real innocent, then pretending not to notice the way he swears under his breath.

“you’re lucky we’re in public,” he grits when you try on a slinky little number that hugs way too close.

you blink. “so you like it?”

he growls. “i like it on the floor of our bedroom.”

you nearly explode.

one outfit later, you try something on that you already know is ridiculous—fluffy, sparkly, way too over-the-top—but you step out just to mess with him.

you expect him to laugh. maybe tease. instead?

he blinks once. then shrugs. “buy it.”

you pause. “wait… really?”

he smirks. “you look happy in it. that’s all i care about.”

by the time you're done, you're practically floating out of the store—arms light, mood lighter, cheeks a little sore from how much you've been grinning.

katsuki?

katsuki is not floating. katsuki is lugging six bags in one hand, two on the other, and somehow managing to balance the weirdly long one that holds the dress bag across his broad shoulders like a damn pack mule.

and the whole time? he looks pissed. jaw tight, bags slapping against his thighs as he stomps beside you.

you peek over at him, smiling sweetly. “you’re the one who said to buy everything, suki.”

“tch. only ‘cause you looked hot in it, dumbass.”

you giggle. “so it’s your fault?”

he stops walking. and glares. hard.

“i swear to god, if you say that again, i’m droppin’ all these bags and draggin’ you into the back of that h&m.”

you blink innocently. “so romantic.”

“try me, sweetheart.”

despite all his complaining, he doesn’t put a single bag down. not when you stop for a smoothie. not when you see a cute little accessory stand. not even when you wander over to look at shoes you’re not even planning on buying.

he just stands there, one foot tapping, arms full of pink and glitter and tissue paper, looking like a man who’s fought gods and monsters and still wasn’t prepared for the chaos that is dating you.

at one point, you lean up on tiptoe and kiss his cheek.

“thanks for carrying everything,” you murmur.

he huffs. “yeah, yeah.”

you kiss him again, this time slower, lingering by the edge of his jaw. “you’re the best boyfriend ever.”

and that does get a response. his ears go a little red. his mouth twitches like he wants to smile but is physically restraining it.

“hmph. i better be,” he mutters, looking away like a child, shifting all the bags in one hand just so he can wrap the other arm around your shoulders.

still grumbling.

still red.

still the best, grumpiest mall boyfriend in existence.

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia ! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

⋆˚࿔ kia's note ˚⋆ bc i love procrastinating and dont write the shit i should write lmao💜 hope you guys enjoyed!!