Our Beautiful Boy ❤️

notebook never lies

bakugo x reader

You hunched over Midoriyas desk, talking to him during lunch period as everyone scattered and went to their friends.

You nodded and awed as he babbled about his notebook, flipping through pages and pages of hero's before getting to the section of your classmates.

Midoriya was mindlessly flipping as he talked, giving you some key information about your peers. Sometimes it was just idle gossip he heard in passing and other times it was random facts he learned about their costumes.

His drawings weren't the best, but you could make out who was who.

As he was getting to the end of the book, he flipped to the longest page. Bakugo's page.

His childhood friend who he knew almost every fact about, from when he got his quirk to how fast it developed through the years.

You leaned closer, intrigued by the facts littered through out. Reading through the page, you recognized some of the information. Like how he enjoyed spicy food and details about his nitro glycerin quirk.

As both you and Midoriya talked about Bakugo, in awe at how powerful he was. You froze as your green haired friend uttered something that had your mind glitching.

"Oh yeah, this was a recent one I learned." Midoriya stated reading off his description of Bakugo's feelings towards you, his eyes scanning the book as if it was no big deal.

"Wait back up, I think I misheard you." You awkwardly laughed, trying to understand what Midoriya just revealed.

"Hm?" He tilted his head confused. "It's right here fact number forty two, Kaachan likes you." He repeated, staring up at you.

You took in a breath, eyes widening as you scanned the page yourself. Staring back at you in black ink was those exact words and a vague description of how he found out.

Right on cue, you could head the hot head shuffling past the row of desks, heading towards you two. His eyes flickering towards Midoriyas open notebook, his atrocious depiction of himself catching his gaze.

"You still haven't gotten better at drawing after all these years, can't even call you an artist nerd." *Bakugo rolled his eyes as he snatched the notebook, his eyes roaming over the rows of facts. Before freezing on the same line that caught you off guard.

"What the hell is this?!" He yelled, slamming the book shut. His eyes shooting you a quick glance before glaring back at his childhood buddy.

As the two of them bickered, (more like Bakugo yelling at Midoriya as he tried to explain himself) Midoriya yanked his belongings back, shoving it in his bag before side eyeing Bakugo.

"Why are you so upset, it's not like I wrote a lie. You of all people should know this book is fully factual." Midoriya said matter of factly, causing the fiery blonde to stutter out half finished insults.

"I- yeah but- okay listen here Deku! You didn't have to go around parading it to everyone!" Bakugo sputtered, his ears burning red as he tried to keep his composure in front of you.

Your poor green freckled friend was digging himself a bigger hole everytime he spoke. "I didn't show everyone, just them." He smiled, pointing towards your sitting form.

Your body stiffening in the chair as Bakugo's attention focused towards you. His face heating up as he tried to avoid direct eye contact, shoving his Midoriya slightly as he stomped away.

"Did I say something wrong?" Midoriya asked you cluelessly, the both of you watching as Bakugo left the classroom.

BETWEEN FORMULAS, FLOWERS AND FEELINGS - SATORU GOJO

You are the imbalance in Satoru’s logical and rational reasoning.

pairing: nerd! gojo x student council president! reader

summary: being the student council president isn’t the easiest job in the world. It’s not like gojo — with his trademark glasses, his awkward smile hiding the most dangerous brain. because for him, he can resolve every problem, right? there is no formula that can escape his smart mind. not even you. so when he accepts to tutor you, could he really be sure feelings won’t become a new variable?

warnings: +18 MDNI, nsfw, smut, virgin! gojo, first time, oral (m! receiving), pinning, college AU, shojo vibes, quantum physics subject, slight angst, fluff, idiots in love, insecure! gojo, nerd gojo with glasses is hot, art by @/3-aem.

wc: 9,922

Ever since he was little, Satoru Gojo seemed to have been blessed with knowledge.

His very first Christmas toy — when he was finally old enough to have one — was a huge playset containing chemical transformation recipes to prepare by himself, using a handful of formulas and calculations.

When he turned ten, his parents gifted him a kit that allowed him to build his own electric train circuit, which he had to assemble using physics methods so that real electricity could power his trains — and sometimes even his cars.

By the time he reached middle school, scientific subjects like physics and chemistry became his second mother. Nothing escaped him. Formulas, molecular mechanisms, and chemical transformations held no secrets. This passion for complex methods shaped his logic.

For every problem, Satoru always found a solution. To him, the world was nothing but a set of solvable scientific probabilities, where nothing could slip through his grasp.

But growing up with barely controllable hormones… poor Satoru had experienced firsthand just how bitter that could taste, even at university.

The first time he asked a girl from his middle school to go out with him in his third year, Satoru never would have thought she’d laugh right in his face before calling him a useless nerd.

He didn’t let anything show. And yet, it was from that very day that Satoru’s glasses, his passion for science, and his own self-confidence betrayed him.

He decided to give up on feelings — classifying them as a deceitful, unscientific belief with a complete lack of logic, something better suited for grotesque purposes like the movies or romantic TV series that entertained uncultured people.

Satoru didn’t need emotions when logic always prevailed, never once disappointing him.

But upon entering university, he could never understand why — despite his silence and absolute discretion, buried in his studies — his cerulean blue eyes always seemed to find their way back to you.

You were the student council president of the school. Known for your upright mind, flawless organization, and a sense of justice so firm it sometimes bordered on harshness.

You had no time for anyone. You spent your days planning university events without wasting a single second — a notebook always pressed against your chest, and occasionally, a pair of glasses perched on your nose during intense activities like studying for exams or arranging event halls, which were regularly occupied by you and your staff.

What intrigued Satoru the most about you was your logic.

You planned everything, organized everything, all while maintaining grades nearly as excellent as his. You never wasted time hanging around with those ridiculous girls who would likely reject him if he ever dared to speak to them, and he had already admire witnessed you standing up for people like him — those trapped in their introversion and buried in their books — refusing to tolerate the injustice caused by the school’s most popular students.

A deep respect radiated from you.

Something Satoru refused to admit. Even though he knew you could short-circuit his brain in an instant.

Like that time when you had asked him for a pen at the library during your study session because he wasn’t far from your table. His face had turned crimson, and he could have sworn smoke was coming out of his ears. His mouth — so used to speaking with precision and efficiency — completely failed him in front of you.

The words got stuck in his throat, and the few sounds that miraculously managed to escape were nothing but incomprehensible stutters, earning him a confused frown from you.

In the end, he gave up on any attempt at conversation and simply handed you the best pen in his pencil case — his favorite. And he had almost silently prayed in his head that you would forget to return it so that you would keep it with you.

And he hated that.

This power you had over him — the way you made him nervous, shy, and desperate for you.

Just like in middle school.

Something he had sworn to leave behind.

~~~~

“NO, NO, AND NO!”

The event hall falls into a deathly silence as you shout your words with such force and vehemence that your fists crush the few sheets of paper still clutched between your tense fingers.

No one dares to move anymore — a part of the staff is busy moving boxes of decorations, two others are handing you papers to sign, some are hovering around you with questions, and others are amusing themselves by climbing ladders to place Christmas decorations — as if your scream alone has just pierced through the entire university.

With your jaw clenched, a vein pulsing at your temple, your cheeks flushed with anger, and your throat slightly irritated, you struggle to breathe as all attention shifts onto you.

“I said I haven’t decided on the organization of the Spring Formal yet, that nothing is supposed to be taken out, signed, or even requested until I’ve given the order, so what the fuck are you all doing here?!” you exclaim.

You push past the students in your way and snap your fingers at the two idiots fooling around with the decorations.

“You two — you’re fired.”

Then, you turn to the rest of the group handling the boxes. “If you don’t want to be fired too, hurry up and put that away!” Next, to the members waiting for you to sign papers. “Out!”

As the room empties in silence, filled with sulky and terrified faces at the thought of dealing with you, you take a deep breath before crouching down to the floor, burying your face between your knees, your arms trembling.

There isn’t much time left.

Director Yaga has given you a deadline to organize the Spring Formal, leaving you in charge of the theme, the venue, and the entertainment.

But, for the first time in your role, you are literally overwhelmed.

For the first time as well, no inspiration comes to you. The stress of classes, exams happening at the same time as the event date, your poor grades lately, and the pressure your team keeps adding on top of all that—at some point, you were bound to explode.

With all of this piling up, how are you supposed to manage?

That’s exactly what you asked yourself during your class that very afternoon, staring at your 40/100 in quantum physics.

With your heart sinking into your stomach, you hastily shove the paper into your bag, not caring in the slightest if it gets crumpled.

No one must see that the student council president allows herself to yell at her team while having such catastrophic grades. But your overloaded schedule no longer allows you to focus on your studies alone — how can you concentrate and stay organized when all you want to do is throw yourself out the window?

~~~~

“You need to register to require a tutor.”

“But I don’t need one.”

The male student raises an eyebrow. “So what are you doing here?”

You scoff. How dare he talk to you like that?

You’re in the library, one of the most soothing and stressful places in the world. You’ve had to find a way to get your grades up while you sort out your problem with Spring Formal, but in the meantime, you need to find a student who can tutor you without anyone knowing.

So what better way to find out than from the librarian’s assistant — who is also one of the Tutoring Center’s organizers?

“I need to know who’s the top student in quantum physics here,” you insist with a firmer tone.

Forgetting you’re at the entrance to the library, you purse your lips, a little embarrassed.

“We don’t have ‘top students’, prez,” he replies with a bitter smile — ah, so he knows who you are.

“So how do you help the students?” you ask with almost indignation.

He shrugs. “If you need help—”

“I do not,” you cut him off coldly, cheeks on fire as you adjust your bag over your shoulder. You sigh in annoyance at the student’s lack of efficiency.

“Then, how can I help you?” He gives you the most impertinent smile in the world, as if he’s just waiting for you to get the hell out.

You tuck a stray lock of your hair back behind your ear before rolling your eyes. “I need to talk to a top student in quantum physics, that’s all.”

The student looks at his fingernails as if they're the most important thing in the world and mimes huffing. “We don’t have any.” He looks up at you. “If you’re looking for one, there’s a nerd who’s the best in his class.”

Curiosity pricks the back of your neck, causing you to sit up straight. “Who?”

“Gojo, I think,” he said, frowning as if to remember his name. “Sato-thing, if I remember. Anyway, a nerd. You should know him, I guess.”

You shake your head, eyes almost squinting as you seek the memory of a Gojo name. But nothing comes to mind. So you shrug.

“What does he look like?”

“Albino. Blue eyes, nerd glasses, always dressed in a sweatshirt or shirt and he always has a book under his arm.”

“All right, thanks.”

Then you hurry out of the library and its oppressive walls, leaving the assistant to sigh with relief — as much as you do.

~~~~

“So, you are… Gojo Sato-thing?”

He has a little disappointed smile. “Satoru Gojo, prez.” With a nervous gesture, he places the strap of his shoulder bag back on his shoulder and adjusts his glasses, which slide down his nose.

You stare at him motionless for a few seconds, speechless at the all-too-perfect likeness of the Tutoring Center manager’s description. He’s got a book under his arm, a Digimon t-shirt over a dark blue plaid shirt and an innocent look on his face — he really wasn’t wrong.

You blink. “Um… yeah. Whatever.”

You check that no one in the corridor of the quantum physics wing has left any students lying around who might surprise you with him, then let out an exhausted exhale.

Faced with his 6'3, you owe it to yourself to raise your eyes and chin a little higher.

“I need your help. You're the best physics student in the class, right?”

He turns the toe of his shoe as a tic on the floor and nods imperceptibly.

“Perfect. I’ve got a little problem right now and—”

“Do you need me to do an assignment for you?” he says almost as if trying to divine your thoughts — is that hope you see in his eyes?

“No.” You knit your brows. “I’m having a problem with my grades and I’m swamped with my event responsibilities and I'm starting to get grades...” You chew the inside of your cheek to hide your pride before muttering, “...pretty bad. And I don’t feel like being given help publicly.”

In his confused expression, you add, “Otherwise it would be a real shame...”

From his height, Satoru’s shyness almost flies away in a gust. He’s got you there at last. In front of him. Talking about something. Like a dream come true — a reality where he no longer knows what his name is but whatever.

He even perceives a blushing creeping up your cheeks as you drift your gaze a little lower to your own shoes and your lips crumple into an adorably embarrassed and frustrated little pout.

Then of course he’ll help you.

He would give you more if he could, and he promises to himself he’ll do it.

“So you need me as your secret tutor?” he clarifies so softly.

You look up at him, clearing your throat. “Basically… yeah.”

“Fine. I can do that.” A small smile spreads across his pink lips and he digs his hands into his jeans, which are a little baggy for him.

You flicker your eyes, confusion animating your features. “Is that all?”

“Do you need anything else?” And you’d have sworn you saw hope still shining in his ocean-blue irises.

“What? No,” you retort incredulously. “But don’t you need something in return? Like, money or something?”

“...No,” he exhales, reducing his smile — though it still lingers. “I don’t mind helping you. Just give me your free hours so we can set a date. If that’s okay with you, of course,” he hastens to add, as if afraid of upsetting you.

Your lips part slightly. “O-Okay,” you finally say. “I’d like to do this as soon as possible.”

“How about today?” Satoru suggests, with a little more enthusiasm than he had anticipated himself. “Or even now, if you want.”

“Now?”

“Yeah,” he says with a happy nod.

“Don’t you think it’s a bit too earl—”

Barely ten minutes later, you find yourself sitting next to him once again in the library, which, for once, is not too crowded, pretending to have a casual conversation while, in reality, he is analyzing your failed test papers with an expert eye.

One elbow resting on the polished wooden table, one hand holding one of your sheets between his fingers, and the other with his index and thumb supporting his chin, Satoru lets his gaze travel line by line over your flawless handwriting—so much so that he forgets he’s supposed to be concentrating on helping you.

And not on the pretty way you write the letter ‘S,’ wondering how close he’d be to a cardiac arrest if he ever saw his name written by your hand.

When he finally manages to analyze the mistakes on your paper, Satoru straightens slightly in his seat, adjusting the collar of his unbuttoned shirt that suddenly seems to be strangling him with an invisible noose, despite his neck remaining completely free. His heart pounds at the speed of light — almost literally.

Calculations and formulas have always been child’s play for Satoru; his brain has always been wired for logic, rationality, and the addictive thrill of adrenaline coursing through his veins when he makes a new discovery, a new analysis that falls perfectly into place — like completing a puzzle and watching it come to life, or like a house of cards standing strong until the slightest imbalance brings it all crashing down.

You are the imbalance in Satoru’s logical and rational reasoning.

For Satoru, love is not a science. It’s just hormones that one must learn to control and not be fooled by.

And yet, even though he has devoted his body and soul to science, his heart will never cease to be yours — under your implacable and irrevocable hold.

Even with all the scientific weapons in the world, he will always be powerless before you.

With a flutter of snowy lashes, he returns to reality, setting his gaze on yours; persistent, waiting for him to say something, to give some kind of critique.

His mouth goes dry, heat rushes to his cheeks as he clears his throat, embarrassed.

“Well, uh... I guess we can start revisiting the notion of The Uncertainty Principle, if that’s okay with you.” He gives you a quick glance so unconfident that you restrain yourself from doing what you're thinking of: ripping off his adorable cheeks — adorable? Since when do you find nerds adorable?

“Okay,” you say, pulling a draft sheet closer.

As you move your chair closer to his to concentrate better thanks to the proximity, the effect is quite the opposite on poor Satoru. He nearly loses all composure when his trembling fingers close around his pencil.

“W-Well… Um, do you want me to give you a quick lesson on this again? You didn’t seem to grasp much of the concept.”

“If you can use simple words…” you mumble without much hope.

He swallows hard before explaining, “A rule in quantum physics says: you can’t know both the exact position and momentum of a particle at the same time. The more you know about one, the less you know about the other. Got it?”

You squint, uncertain, as you rest your chin in the hollow of your palm. “Mh-hmm…”

“So,” he draws two Delta symbols, each followed by an x and a p, then an equal sign, “this one represents the uncertainty in position while the other represents the uncertainty in momentum.” He leans slightly forward to clearly define the terms for you before breaking down the formula, trying not to sweat under the ghost of your breath caressing his hand because of how close you are.

“Okay. I don’t think I quite got all that.”

“It’s okay,” Satoru replies with a slight smile as he adjusts his glasses on his nose before returning to the sheet. “You confused uncertainty with actual errors in measurement, and you tried to calculate exact values for both position & momentum, which isn’t possible.” He draws an example of throwing a ball vs. tracking an electron. “You can’t pin down a quantum particle perfectly — it’s like me trying to figure out what you’re thinking all the time. Impossible, right?”

“...Right.”

“You don’t understand anything, right?” he sighs, a slight frown curling his lips.

“Honestly? Not a word,” you chuckle, a soft, honest melody that caresses his ears.

“Let’s make it more real for you, prez, then,” he snorts too, wiping away a big smile that deepens his dimples. “Imagine you’re running around campus planning this big Spring Formal thing. If I try to track exactly where you are at one moment, I have no clue where you’ll be the next second. But if I focus on how fast you’re moving between meetings, I can guess you’ll end up in the library… but I won’t know the exact second you get there. That’s basically the Uncertainty Principle — can’t have both at the same time.”

“Ohhhh, okay!” you say, a light illuminating your face. But a second later, your features drop. “But, wait… that doesn’t make sense. If we have better tools, we can just measure both, right?”

He chuckles softly. “Nope. Even if we had the best measuring tools in the universe, the universe itself won’t let us know both at the same time. It’s not a technology problem — it’s just how nature works.”

You groan, frustrated, and slump over your notes. “Physics is pain.”

He shakes his head, a lighter smile blooming on his lips. “You’ll get it, I promise. You just need time… and a good tutor.”

“You?” You snicker, but not meanly — just teasing him in this mood that feels so comfortable with him, something you never thought you’d experience. “You’re losing me more than I was before.”

You both sigh after a while, and he gives you a practice exercise, which you rush to complete so he can correct it.

For the first time in maybe weeks, or even months, you haven’t felt this light. Quantum physics has always been a difficult challenge to overcome, despite your habit of planning everything to avoid stress. But sometimes, doing everything alone has led you to not ask for help when you needed it the most.

So when someone reached out and showed you how relieving some of that weight could feel, the sensation sparked a desire in you — one that didn’t want this to end.

But you’re afraid it will make you dependent.

So it’s best not to get too attached, right?

~~~~

The following week, even though your understanding of quantum physics has somewhat improved, your stress refuses to do anything but skyrocket toward a full-blown anxiety attack.

Principal Yaga summoned you to his office because some students — the two you expelled last week — went to complain about your nervous and excessive behavior, claiming it warranted psychological support.

Outraged, you defended yourself by pointing out the inefficiency of your team, who fail to meet your needs without considering the mental load that comes with your responsibility as the student council president. And yet, that wasn’t enough to calm Yaga, who dismissed you with a stern reminder that if you don’t finalize the Spring Formal preparations soon, he won’t hesitate to replace you with a more competent organizer.

The mere thought — no, the haunting fear—of being replaced like a cheap supermarket doll plagues your nights with nightmares.

So, the obvious anxiety growing inside you bleeds into the most crucial moments — the moments when you’re supposed to stay focused instead of silently wallowing in your situation.

“Need help, prez?”

Ripped from your daze, you lift your gaze to the voice beside you, only now realizing that he’s been sitting next to you since the start of the lecture — completely unnoticed, completely ignored.

It’s Satoru, his laptop open in front of him, a small, friendly smile turned toward you—and only you. That tiny detail sends a strange, foreign wave through your stomach — not unpleasant, though.

“Oh, you’re here,” you mumble, turning your attention back to the professor.

“Since the very start, yes,” he replies, his voice softer now, tinged with a faint hint of disappointment as he twirls his pencil between his long, nimble fingers.

A silence settles between you, neither of you seeming inclined to break it.

In the lecture hall, only the sound of keyboards clicking and the amplified voice of the professor fill the large room. You try your best to follow along, scribbling notes as diligently as you can, but at this point, it feels like trying to form words by randomly pressing keys — you understand nothing.

“Need help?”

You slowly lift your head toward the familiar voice.

“You can explain it to me later, you know?” you mutter, careful not to let anyone else overhear your conversation — it could cost you.

“And we could save time by explaining it now.” His tone is soft, rational, kind, altruistic — every synonym that embodies maturity and gentle responsibility.

He’s made of sugar. Just for you.

You sigh, finally giving in with a nod, as Satoru flips his laptop into tablet mode to explain the purpose of the chapter — the name of which you’ve only just learned, despite an hour and a half of lecture on Wave-Particle Duality.

“So,” he says, writing the formula on his tablet with a stylus. “The general concept is quite easy. Quantum objects — like electrons — can act as both particles and waves, okay?”

You nod, leaning in closer to his shoulder to observe the definitions of the formula’s terms — a faint scent brushes against your senses. Clean laundry and a subtle drop of cologne. The scent imprints itself in your lungs pleasantly enough that you have to mentally slap yourself to keep from getting distracted from Satoru’s explanations.

He glances at you with those sharp blue eyes and raises an eyebrow. “You know what wavelength means?”

“It’s just for light, right?”

He snorts quietly. “Particles.”

“Oh.”

He holds back another laugh and continues his explanations.

Several minutes later, you find your eyes glued — no, entranced — by Satoru, this nerd with glasses that hide a brain far too brilliant for you. Maybe even for the entire university.

You notice it in everything he does — setting aside his physical appearance, which you’re starting to find cuter and cuter without even realizing it — every cell of his body breathes science, logic, the thirst for discovery. His brain analyzes every possibility, his fingers manipulate rationality, and his glasses help him weigh the pros and cons. His long, straight nose gives him an infallible instinct, a sixth sense that never fails, and his smile — his pretty, thin, pink lips—illuminate hypotheses with a dangerously innocent charm.

But he himself doesn’t even realize it.

“See? It’s like… imagine if you could be both a super serious president and a total mess at physics at the same time. Oh wait — that’s already happening,” he teases, a playful, cute smile blooming on his lips as he glances at you with sparkles in his eyes.

Oh, that damn smile.

And without meaning to, you join in his laughter, covering your mouth with your palm so as not to be heard as, for the first time in weeks, a weight is lifted from your shoulders. The little analogy that might have irritated you a few days ago seems silly to you. Why do it when he’s here?

The bell rings, announcing the end of class, and the hubbub of the students urges you to put your things away as much as possible before the teacher gives you more homework than you already have just to understand the lecture.

With your bag slung over your shoulder, you make your way towards the exit, at the end of the herd of students who have made you lose sight of Satoru. A little disappointment contracts your heart, but after all, why should he be waiting for you? There was no need. You’re not friends. Just two students who are nice to each other (well, mostly Satoru).

So as you walk out of the lecture hall, you almost come face to face with a 6’3. Your nose collides painfully with a hard, bumpy surface — wait, of abs?

Impossible.

A hand much larger than yours wraps around your elbow to steady you and meets your eyes down on your wincing face.

“Oops, sorry,” Satoru apologizes as his smile evaporates. “Are you okay? I just wanted to wait for you.”

Was it abs?

“No worries, I'm fine,” you assure with a smile as self-conscious as it is forced, one hand rubbing your sore nose. “That's sweet.” Then you look away to calm the blush that spreads like a puddle from your neck to your scalp and pray it's unseen.

“You sure?” he insists with a concerned frown.

“...Sure.”

Once your face has cooled, your eyes stare at the spot on his torso where your nose collided. That flat spot under the shirt that appears a little less to you now, seen up close. It's as if with every swell of his breath, you can see the beginnings of an abdominal bulge, but you shake your head to get this far-fetched idea out of your head.

Letting your hand fall back, you offer him a more confident smile and lead the way. “Shall we?”

With a slower nod, he follows you.

To bridge the silence between the two of you in the deserted corridors, you nudge him in the ribs and say, “You know, I still don’t get how you find physics fun.”

He feigns pain and smirks — does he only smile when he’s with you?

“I don’t find it fun, strictly speaking, but really very interesting. At least, enough to make me face my major.” He pauses to give you a teasing look. “And I still don’t get how you survive on four hours of sleep.”

“I am a vampire,” you grin stupidly, “I love working at night. I feel productive.”

“I see that. Your bags speak for you,” he chortles.

“For real?” you mouth, running your fingers over your dark circles as if to check his words when it makes more sense to look in the mirror rather than feel you up.

“Just joking,” he murmurs, dropping his gaze on the floor a second before looking up back at you. “But you seem very stressed lately, am I wrong?”

You don’t answer right away, reluctant to tell him about your doubts and what’s been bothering you for weeks. But you can. This is just two friends from the same quantum physics class strolling around campus at the end of a long day, isn’t it?

But maybe not close enough for him to be really interested in you? Maybe he’s just asking questions out of politeness and not out of any real concern for you. After all, you’re not really close.

“It's alright, just uni and student council stuff, as always,” you murmur with averted eyes. “We also need to plan our next tutoring session.”

“Yeah...” Satoru shoves his hands in his pockets and lets silence fill the gap between the two of you before resuming. “Maybe we could do it somewhere else this time, couldn’t we?” he offers without much hope in his voice.

You knit your brows. “What?”

“I mean... do you—uh, never mind.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Huh?”

He seems to chicken out and look away but you catch it before he could hide it — the tips of his ears are red.

“Nothing. Just... you’re really into this whole Spring Formal thing, huh?” he mumbles.

“Of course. I have a lot of work to do on it. But what were you asking me?” you insist with a softer tone and your hand wrapping around his arm — remarkably built, you note internally.

He finally twists his neck toward you to face you, lips pursed into a conflicted pout.

“You’re going to refuse.”

“You didn’t even try to ask,” you almost in a mid gasp and chuckle.

He runs a hand through his tousled snowy hair, then slips it around the back of his neck, rubbing it like a nervous tic. “I see that you’re stressed — even if you deny it. So would you accept to... maybe do work on our tutoring lessons in a better place?” He panics slightly under your unfathomable gaze, just waiting for the next part of his words. “I mean... I know a place where it could be less stressful and more relaxing because you deserve it... But of course,” he adds hastily, “it doesn’t commit you to anything and you don’t have to accept and we can totally carry on doing it at the library because really it’s just a stupid idea and I should just keep my mouth shut—”

“Satoru.”

His heart stops beating and he thinks his brain has short-circuited as he realizes it’s the first time you've said his first name in that tone.

Softly, reassuringly, and with obvious joy.

“Of course I’d like to work with you somewhere else. It means a lot to me that you thought of me like that,” you say softly as you stop in front of some stairs so you can look him straight in the eye. “I can give you my phone number and you’ll just have to send me the address, how’s that?”

Okay. His brain really has just short-circuited.

He doesn’t even remember how he managed to hand you his phone and record your number, wish you a good evening and return to his dormitory after being subjected to your beaming smile — of a particular radiance he’s never seen before on your face in all the time, however long, he’s spent gazing at you wherever you are — radiant even.

Lying on his bed, he stares at the ceiling. The silent night allows his thoughts to grow louder, as if several were trying to express themselves at once.

However, one image takes root in his eyelids when he closes them before sleeping.

You.

~~~~

“You shouldn’t have.”

“Do you really need to make this even more embarrassing?”

You shake your head. “It’s not fair.”

His features sag, and he lets out a tiny sigh. “Just please, accept it. I made it for you.”

At your feet lies a picnic blanket with red and white checkered patterns. On top of it are homemade sandwiches, cans of fruit juice, berries, cakes, and even a tub of ice cream resting inside a mini cooler. Satoru has even arranged the space to avoid a chaotic mess while working and has brought ultra-comfortable cushions to make the tutoring session as pleasant as possible.

He can’t do this.

Not with you, who arrived at the quiet, sparsely crowded city park, right under the most magnificent Japanese cherry blossom tree.

The cool breeze blows gently around you both, sweeping away a few strands of your hair that you’re forced to tuck behind your ears.

“Sit your ass down,” Satoru mumbles, looking away to hide an obvious embarrassment, though his hand pats the empty space he left just for you.

So, reluctantly, you sit cross-legged, grabbing a random sandwich — just so he won’t sulk — and try not to cry because it’s so ridiculously delicious. The berries couldn’t be fresher or juicier than any you’ve ever tasted, and not to mention the cakes he brought. The majority of the food is sweet — his sweet tooth showing up a little too obviously.

“Hope it tastes good,” he adds, his lips forming a slight pout.

“Never ate something that good,” you respond, mouth full of food. “You’re an angel.”

The word makes him freeze for a solid thirty seconds before he shakes his head and lets his gaze drift away — always avoiding — toward the nearby lake.

The ground is sprinkled with pale pink petals, blending into the vibrant green grass of this March afternoon. A few birds chirp in the distance, hardly anyone comes near your secluded spot, and the peaceful silence reigning over the park creates the perfect environment for getting work done.

Swallowing his own mochi, Satoru watches you take out your notes on the latest physics chapter, and instead of sitting across from you, he allows himself to settle beside you this time — without you pulling away.

He was hesitant from the start and may never be able to stop feeling nervous around you. No matter how often he’s around you or how much more familiar he grows with your presence, he can’t control those sudden spikes of nervousness that hit when he’s already comfortable — only for one small action or movement to give his poor little heart a crisis.

You hand him the exercises you worked on last night, and while he reviews them, you take out your planner and notepad — the ones you carry everywhere (even to bed and the bathroom)—to go over the organization of the upcoming Spring Formal.

An event that’s happening soon. An event with absolutely nothing planned yet.

You quietly jot down notes on possible themes, but after another glance at the endless, sprawling branches of the massive cherry tree, you sigh and toss your notepad aside onto the picnic blanket. No ideas in sight. You have no choice but to admit your incompetence. Your failure is inevitable.

“Here.” Satoru hands you back your corrected exercises, and you quickly scan through them.

Since the beginning of your sessions with him, you have to admit — you’ve improved.

This time, there are fewer scribbles and corrections from Satoru. Your formulas and applications are more precise, clearer, and better developed. All thanks to your hard work and Satoru’s expert guidance — the science genius himself.

There are still some non-negligible mistakes to fix, but at least the encouraging smile from your tutor warms your chest, silently telling you that you’re on the right track.

“This is really not bad,” he murmurs softly near your shoulder. “You’re seriously improving.”

“Thanks to my good tutor,” you reply, nudging him playfully with your elbow.

“What flattery. I don’t deserve this much.” Yet his so-called humility is betrayed by the deep red blush dusting his ears.

“Quite the opposite. I wish I could pay you back somehow.”

“You don’t need to. I told you it was my pleasure to help you.”

“And I feel bad about it,” you confess in a whisper.

“Don’t,” he insists — and dares to wrap his slightly trembling, warm hand over yours on the blanket.

Your heart flutters, like a butterfly trying to take flight, only to be tossed around by the wind.

“Thank you,” you whisper, with more honesty than you’ve ever given anyone.

“For being a good friend? Don’t worry, I’m glad to have you as well, honestly,” he murmurs back, punctuating his words with a light squeeze of your hand.

“And I—” he clears his throat, “...really appreciate you.”

Friends. Appreciate you.

“I appreciate you too. Really. I’m sorry if I mess up every move you try with me to help me,” you add with an apologetic smile. “Stress always ruins my life.”

“I told you that you couldn't deny it.” He raises his eyebrows and lift up an uncertain arm — seeing you not reacting has reassured him enough to pluck up the courage to pass it around you to console you. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

You let yourself go against him, burying half your face against him. “I’m in deep shit about organizing the Spring Formal. I haven’t prepared anything, I have no idea, and yet I’ve got plenty to do. Mr. Yaga warned me that he might replace me if I went on like this, and I feel like everything’s going to shit,” you say in a breath, a tiny barrier of vulnerability cracking.

His arm tightens in an attempt at comfort. He nods slowly, inhaling long breaths of fresh air before making a clicking sound with his tongue.

“Where’s your notepad?”

You hand it to him without protest, and he immediately grabs it and flips through it. Then, when he finds a blank page, he grabs a pen lying near the two of you and jots down a few sentences, the words of which you can only read when he hands you the notebook.

“An alignment of the planets?” You raise a curious, surprised eyebrow.

He nods with his chin and sketches a smile.

“It only happens in spring, practically. And there will be one before long.” He squeezes his arm around you again and chuckles. “A theme about planets might be nice, don’t you think?”

Lips parted, you gaze into the azure sky. Himself a little disarmed by your lack of reaction, he frowns without giving up his smile and softly pronounces your first name.

With zero control over your movements, there’s nothing to stop your lips from pressing tenderly against Satoru’s smooth, soft cheek — a firm but gentle kiss leaving an invisible, indelible trace on his radiant skin as you pull away to look into his eyes again.

“You're an angel,” you repeat a second time.

Well, the second time too, when Satoru’s heart, no longer knowing how to beat, simply stops beating.

~~~~

“Move them a little more to the right— Yes, that’s perfect.”

Your trusty notepad clutched against your chest, you admire the preparations unfolding in the venue for the upcoming Spring Formal, where the theme of planetary alignment is set to make this year’s university event truly unforgettable.

Finally, you’re no longer spending your time yelling at your team and barking orders fueled by the vibrant sparks of your stress. Instead, you’re giving clear instructions, each one accompanied by an encouraging smile for everyone.

“Maybe we could add midnight blue velvet curtains,” Satoru suggests, leaning over your shoulder, his chest brushing pleasantly against your back as he glances at the list of missing decoration orders. “We could stick fake stars on them, and it’ll draw more attention to the planets. What do you think?”

“I like the idea,” you giggle, despite the way your insides somersault when his warm breath grazes your ear, sending waves of goosebumps down your skin. You jot down a few notes as Satoru leans in even closer, gently resting his chin on your shoulder. “Not surprising, coming from the quantum physics genius of the entire university.”

Even though there’s nothing official between you — not if you ignore the feelings and trust that make Satoru more confident and relaxed in your presence — nor any concrete relationship, the warm intimacy settling between you two is anything but uncomfortable.

It’s like a mutual friendship, fully acknowledged by both of you, yet intertwined with threads of love left unspoken — often betrayed by moments of closeness like this one.

“You’re gonna make me blush again,” he admits with a light laugh, soft and delicate as a cherry blossom petal.

“Oh yeah?” You turn your head toward his — just enough for your faces to be so close that the tips of your noses brush. “Why?”

He sighs, fluttering his eyes closed for a brief moment before opening them again. “You know why…”

“I’m clueless when it comes to guessing thoughts, my hot nerd tutor,” you coo, a little grin spreading across your lips — those same lips he wanted to kiss until he couldn’t breathe anymore for the rest of his life.

“Maybe I could show you, then.” And gently, he places his hands around your waist, an easy, soothing smile on his face. “Is that okay if I do that?” After your nod, his smile grows even wider. “Also, could we do our next session at my place? I can’t stay at the library today because my mom is waiting for a package while she’s at work, so she asked me to take care of it.”

“Of course.” You take note of his suggestion while the rest of your team rushes to decorate the room and move boxes — some opened, some not. Then, you turn back to him, feeling the slight tremor of his hands against your body, the way the blood rushes alarmingly fast to his face, and how his eyes avoid yours.

“Blushing?” you giggle.

“You’re not embarrassed? I mean— It’s my place, not my dorm or the library, you know,” he mumbles.

You graze a kiss on his soft cheek and grin. “You’re freaking cute.”

“I’m not joking,” he whines lowly, a small, worried furrow forming between his brows.

“As am I.” You give his arm a little squeeze. “Everything’s gonna be alright. I don’t mind having you all alone in your house, though.”

And you burst into laughter when he chokes on his own saliva at your words — having never seen someone turn so red before.

~~~~

“I knew you liked physics, but not that much.”

Before coming to set foot in Satoru’s room for the first time, you expected to be dealing with a simple, uncluttered, organized room, and above all far more filled with bookcases overflowing with books rather than...

...the opposite.

Stepping into Satoru’s room feels like entering a nerdy galaxy of controlled chaos. His desk is cluttered with thick physics textbooks, some stacked neatly, others left open mid-read, pages filled with complex equations you can’t even begin to understand. Among them, a few manga volumes peek out, half-hidden like a guilty pleasure. Above, a whiteboard covered in messy formulas and doodles dominates the wall, the marker strokes chaotic but somehow full of purpose. His ceiling is scattered with glow-in-the-dark stars, forming actual constellations if you look closely, and a floating moon lamp sat on his nightstand, casting a soft glow over his unmade bed.

Everywhere you turn, there is something to mess with — a plasma ball that lit up at your touch, a Newton’s Cradle clicking rhythmically on his desk, even a weird futuristic clock displaying time in some incomprehensible format. His monitors hum with life, one running a sci-fi screensaver while another had what looks like a physics simulation he’d probably forgotten about. 

And yet, despite the overwhelming nerd energy, it was… comfortable. Lived-in. A place where ideas sparked and theories came to life — exactly what you could imagine his space would be if you’d thought things through a bit more.

“Wow,” you murmur, entranced. “It’s… just beautiful. Like a museum.”

“Heh? You’re flattering me really too much,” he chuckles nervously, scratching his neck where his undercut is. “But I’m glad if you like it. I want you to feel home,” he adds softly.

“Home?” You turn to him with a slightly embarrassed and moved smile. “You’re my home, actually.”

Nothing you say makes sense. Your racing heart lets your mouth babble nonsense and scare Satoru away. You’re far too embarrassing—

“I feel the same for you.”

Like a needle piercing a balloon, your vital organ explodes in your chest.

The next second, your brain regains control and orders your legs to move towards him, until your torsos brush against each other and your breaths mingle, giving birth to a gentle flame that burns only to be consumed.

Satoru whispers your name. “Can I try something?” he mouths.

You nod imperceptibly, your gaze lost in his ocean eyes.

Tenderly and with the most delicate gentleness, he cups your cheeks, tilting your head so that your face faces directly forehead to his. So close, you have a detailed view of the number of his light eyelashes, the different shades of blue mingling in his irises, the pleasant warmth of his tepid breath against you.

Then, his lips brush yours first, as if testing your reaction. But when your fingers latch onto his light-brown V-neck sweater, he feels the pressure rise in his blood and slowly, but suddenly, crushes his lips against yours.

It’s not rushed — just a soft press of lips, tentative, almost careful. As if he's afraid of breaking something fragile. So to encourage him, you sigh softly in contentment, then tilt your head the slightest bit to fit better, closer... Your hands remain gently clasped to his sweater.

He seems to get your message, because the next thing you know, he’s relaxing, moving more slowly and comfortably against yours. The world outside that moment doesn’t exist. Just him, just this — his lips, softer than you expected, the careful way he kisses you, as if he is memorizing every second of it. Time stretches thin, and even when you finally pull apart, neither of you move far.

Slowly, you open your eyes, only to find him already looking at you. His gaze is different now — quieter, warmer, like he is seeing you in a way he never had before.

For a moment, neither of you speak. The silence is soft, not awkward, filled with a kind of understanding that doesn’t need words. And then, just barely above a whisper, Satoru exhales a quiet, shaky laugh.

“Oh.”

Just that — like he hasn’t expected this, like he’s still processing the fact that it happened at all. And maybe it’s the way he looks at you, stunned and a little breathless, or maybe it’s just the warmth still lingering between you, but you find yourself smiling, a tiny, barely-there curve of your lips.

“Yeah,” you murmur back, voice quieter and warmer than you intended.

Neither of you moved away. Not yet.

You lower your head, a hot flush creeping up your cheeks and neck, and that's when you also understand where his “oh” is coming from.

Oh.

While he turns away to hide his face in his hands and prays to be buried in a grave on the spot, you burst out laughing — a frank, non-judgmental laugh. Simply savoring this pleasant moment with him (albeit with one small problem).

“Just with a kiss? Satoru, I swear you’re the cutest!” you continue to laugh, half-folding with your arms hugging your belly.

“It’s not f-funny!” And the poor guy doesn’t even dare turn around as he adjusts his pants, which is where his “problem” lies.

Smiling, you move closer to him, your lips still prickling from the perfect kiss. One of your hands slips to his shoulder and gives it a gentle squeeze. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” he mumbles, hiding his face again from your sight.

“It is,” you insist, wrapping your hand around his wrist to look at him. “I’m not judging you, I swear. It’s not like you can control that, is it?”

“I know, but— It’s so embarrassing. I feel like a poor virgin nerd that — well, It’s not like I am not but—”

You freeze, slowly losing your smile. “Wait… you’re a virgin?”

He nods, a little shameful pout creasing his lips.

“I—” you trail off. Taking a short breath, you lower yourself a little more to look at him as he covers his crotch with one hand. “I can help you with that, you know.”

His eyes widen, heart hammering in his rib cage. “W-What?”

An umpteenth laugh shakes your chest. “I mean, yeah. I don’t mind and I like you.” Then an idea pops into your head, like a lamp regaining its light. “Like, it would make up for the effort you put into helping me get good grades. What do you think?”

He straightens abruptly and gently but firmly pushes your hand away by the wrist. A serious look despite his embrace adds.

“No way. I already told you I don’t want anything in return.”

“But it’s just to please you,” you insist, flickering your eyes. “Don’t you want to know how it feels?” You take a few steps forward until you can wrap your arms around his perfect torso — the ideal balance of slim and muscular.

Your chin rests on his breastbone, a little imploring pout on your lips.

“C’mon, just an oral, I promise. I want to return the favor.”

He swallows hard, lips parted as if the words are stuck somewhere between embarrassment and want. His gaze flickers between your face and the floor, a mix of reluctance and curiosity in his eyes.

“But I—” His voice cracks slightly, a nervous laugh escaping him. “I don’t know what I’m doing…”

You smile, a quiet, knowing smile, and slide your fingers slowly down his arm, your touch lingering on his skin. “It’s okay,” you say, your breath barely above a whisper. “I’ll guide you.”

You can see him shiver at the words, his chest rising and falling rapidly. You take your time, moving in closer, making sure to leave no space between you. Your lips brush against his jaw, a delicate kiss that makes his entire body stiffen for a split second. He doesn’t pull away, though, and that’s enough to encourage you to go further.

“Just relax,” you tease, pulling back slightly to look up at him. “I promise I’m not going to bite.”

“I know, I just need to sit a bit,” he whispers, a wave of uncertainty in his eyes.

You pull away from him, feeling the palpable tension between the two of you. “Of course.” You take his hand in yours and guide him onto his bed. When he sits down on the mattress, you find yourself kneeling between his legs.

As your hands busily unzip his straight gray twill pants, you maintain eye contact. “Tell me if it’s too much or if you wanna stop, okay love?”

Love.

He nods gently, his elbows pressed into the softness of the mattress to get a view of your movements without him lying down completely. Lips trembling, Satoru feels obliged to bite them to calm himself as the heat almost suffocates him while all he has left is his boxer shorts hiding his growing erection under the thin fabric.

You can feel the air thickening between you, charged with the kind of quiet intensity that makes your pulse race. Your fingertips wrap around the waistband of his boxers and tug them down gently, letting the fabric rub against his length while he’s hissing.

“Sweetheart—”

“Relax, I’m just getting started,” you chuckle fondly.

When the underwear is pulled down, his erection springs free, slamming on his half-covered abdomen. The poor little thing, left alone, twitches painfully — dragging sounds like cute and innocent whimpers from Satoru — like it’s begging for your touch for a decade.

You curl your lips together, genuinely stunned by his size. 7 inches isn’t nothing.

“So you’re packing this from the start?”

“I— No…” He sighs, clenching his jaw as his eyes flutter closed. “Please, it’s already embarrassing.”

“But why? You’re beautiful, Satoru. And I’m not talking about your dick,” you snort. Your gentle, affectionate tone makes Satoru forget how to breathe and open his eyes again. “You’re beautiful on the inside too.”

“You’re only flattering—”

“I am not,” you state firmly, getting up from your knees to straddle his hips and cup his cheeks until they puff like mochi’s and he’s pouting.

Fucking adorable.

“Have you ever been into a relationship?” you whisper after pecking a kiss on the corner of his lips.

He shakes his head, stuttering a no.

“So  can I call you mine? Because I’d be yours if I could,” you mutter next to his jaw where you peck another kiss that makes him shiver and grip your hips with his hands.

He opens his mouth to say something and hesitates. “A-Are you sure?” he asks, eyes filled with doubt. ‘I’m a nerd and—”

“And my type is nerd guys,” you cut him off before pulling him into a passionate kiss. He gasps, tightening his grip on your as his lips gently taste your and steal his breath away. “I love you, Satoru.”

“Love you more. Since the first time I laid my eyes on you,” he murmurs back between kisses, eyelids shut.

You slightly pull away, a smile springing to your lips. “Pinning on me for so long? Aw, sorry to have been blind for this long too, then.”

He resists the urge to take you in his arms and lets you back down onto your knees, this time with his oversensitive cock throbbing in your hands as you begin to stroke it up and down, base to tip with all the slowness you can manage so as not to make him cum too quickly.

Satoru’s hips jerk up instantly, his chest rising and lowering because of his stuttering breath.

“Your hands feel so good and soft,” he whispers, sliding his big hands up to your shoulders, which he gently massages to relax you too. What a gentleman. “So much better than mine…”

“Yeah? You like it?” Eager to please him for his first time, you place a kiss on his angry red tip, licking a little strop with the tip of your own tongue.

“Hgn— easy,” he pants, hands shaking slightly as they interrupt their massages on your shoulders when yours lead them on your head, tangled with your locks. “What are you—”

“You can use my hair, if you want.” And you punctuate your words by taking his length back between your hands and kiss the fat head. It twitches in response, stealing little giggles from your sweet lips. Beads of precum leak along his length, helping you to wet him enough to stroke him faster as you part your lips and slide them down the length of him.

Satoru’s breath hitches when you take him, sucking in slow, deep strokes as your hand grips the base of him. You pull back slightly, your lips sliding back up, and you hear him groan, a sound that makes you ache. You repeat the motion, taking him deeper, sucking harder as you run your tongue along the underside of his cock, feeling him twitch in your mouth before you pull back again.

“Feel good?” you ask sweetly.

“You’re perfect,” he breathes out — even whimpering in neediness, “thank you so much…” His hands tighten in your hair, pulling you even closer, but it’s not enough.

You don’t stop. Instead, you take him deeper, your lips tightening around him as you move faster, the sound of your mouth on his cock filling the room, drowning out everything else. Satoru’s breath grows shallow, irregular, his body starting to tense, his legs flexing as he tries to hold back.

But you can feel it. The way he is so close, the way his body is winding tighter with every flick of your tongue. His fingers pulled at your hair, unsure to guide you just how he wants because what you were doing is already something he’ll owe you all his entire life — he is desperate, needing his release.

“F-Fuck,” he stutters, fingers digging in your scalp deliciously for you pleasure. “I love you, but please, g’nna—”

“—cum? Yeah, do it, love,” you purr affectionately as you teasingly suck his sensitive tip until he’s whining and fighting for his hips to not thrust up and hurt you.

He is there — at the edge — his cock twitching in your mouth, and you know he can’t hold on much longer. With one last deep, slow pull, he cums, his hips jerking as he releases into your mouth with a long, desperate groan. You swallow every drop, sucking him clean, your hands gently massaging his thighs as he slowly comes down from the high.

Satoru’s breath is ragged, his body shuddering as he slowly opens his eyes. He looks at you like you’re some sort of angel from heaven, and you smile, wiping the corner of your mouth before standing up.

“Feel better?” you ask teasingly, your voice light despite the heat still pooling in your stomach.

He sighs deeply, rubbing his eyes before carefully sitting up and hugs you in a tight embrace. He blows kisses all over your face, murmuring thank yous and how much he loves you and you find yourself in awe.

“You’re welcome, it’s the least that I can do for you, after all.” You press a big, firm, and sincere kiss on his cheek, and cannot stop smiling.

~~~~

The main room is bathed in a deep blue, soft, ambient light, the atmosphere almost otherworldly. Stars shimmer faintly on the walls, and delicate, hanging lanterns cast a stunning cold glow, like constellations scattered across the ceiling. The whole room seems alive, breathing with energy, as guests drift through the space, their laughter and chatter blending into a gentle hum.

At the center of the hall are huge telescopes, available for anyone curious enough to observe tonight’s planet alignment. The most important event of the Spring Formal.

Around the perimeter, tables are set with shimmering candles, their flames flickering softly, casting shadows on the faces of the students who’ve come to admire the setup. The smell of roses and lavender lingers in the air, mixing with the faint scent of freshly baked treats at the snack table. It feels like a dream — a celebration of the night sky brought to life.

Satoru stands beside you, his hand lightly brushing against yours as you both take in the beauty of the room. His smile is small but warm, his gaze drifting from the decorations to the crowd. There’s an unspoken pride in the way he looks at you, knowing you had a hand in making all of this happen, bringing the theme of the planets to life with such care.

“This is... perfect,” he says, voice soft but full of admiration. His words are simple, but they carry weight. You feel a soft warmth settle in your chest at the sincerity in his tone.

A small smile blooms on your lips. “Yeah…” you agree, turning to face him fully, now a grin spreading across your face. “It really turned out great. Thanks to you.”

His cheeks tint pink at the praise, and he shrugs, trying to act nonchalant, but the pride in his eyes is unmistakable.

“You really made this all come together,” he says, voice full of admiration. “It’s amazing.”

For a moment, you simply smile at each other, a comfortable silence settling between you. The warmth of his gaze makes your heart flutter in your chest.

“Want to dance?” you ask, already knowing his answer, but wanting to ask all the same.

He hesitates for a moment, that same shy, unsure side of him creeping back, but the smile on his lips says everything.

“Yeah,” he says, his hand finding yours once again, this time with more confidence. “I’d love to.”

As you both step onto the dance floor, the lights change again, and for a moment, the two of you are surrounded by the glow of the stars and lanterns, your bodies moving to the soft music that fills the room. It’s not a fast, frantic dance — just slow and gentle, like you’re in your own little world. You feel the gentle sway of the music, and the weight of everything around you fades, leaving just the two of you in perfect harmony.

Maybe it’s the magic of the planets aligning, or maybe it’s just him — but either way, you think, you wouldn’t mind orbiting around Gojo Satoru a little longer.

a/n: there we go! I AM DRAINED BC OF SCHOOL AND COURSES GUIDANCE BC LAW IS SO HARDDDD!! hum hum, beside that, i hope you guys had a nice week and that you are all taking care of your little faces (if not i'm gonna do it for you). writing this felt like... refreshing? i mean, nerdjo is the little mochi i'm eating when i go to the supermarket lol. and gosh, he's so cute that i'm going crazy haha.

reblogs, comments, and likes are very appreciated as always <3

also, this is how i pictured this cutie pie:

tags: @bearwithmoo @elliesndg @lymsfm @mutsu422 @drippymcdrippison @koshhin @v31v3t @wisheclairr @sanemistar @monokaix

So can we all agree that gun fiend aki is still finer than a mfker?

(Unknown artist, no watermark 😞)

♯┆𝐅𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐓 .ᐟ — 𝐁𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐆𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You’ve faked it with every guy you’ve ever worked with. Every scene, every moan, convincing, but never real. Then Bakugo happens. One scene turns into something else entirely and now you can’t stop thinking about him, and you’re starting to wonder if it was ever just a scene.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ content. smut, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, fingering, rough sex, praise, light degradation, dirty talk, light choking, possessiveness, semi-public sex (on set), creampie, light aftercare, porn industry setting, blurred emotional lines, language.

PART TWO

You weren’t nervous. Not really.

You’d done this a hundred times. With all the big names—Keigo, who liked to make everything a performance; Touya, who had a thing for whispering filth like he was telling you a secret; even that wild three-way with Shindo and Hitoshi that still topped your subscriber requests.

So no, this wasn’t nerves.

This was something else.

Maybe it was the name on the call sheet. Bakugo Katsuki.

He was the guy. The one who didn’t just act like a powerhouse on camera—he was one. Every scene he was in got clipped, shared, memed, thirsted after. The kind of raw intensity people couldn’t stop watching. Or jerking off to.

You included. Not that you’d admit it out loud.

Okay. Maybe once. When you were wine drunk and swiping through his catalog. Maybe twice. Maybe more.

You’d watched him wreck other girls. Watched the way his hands gripped hips like he owned them. The way his mouth dragged moans out like he knew exactly what buttons to push. You always told yourself it was research. Prep for the inevitable scene.

Now here you were, in the makeup chair, legs crossed, phone in hand, trying not to stare at the clock. You didn’t even get this antsy for award shows.

You shifted your hips a little. God, you needed to get a grip.

“Five minutes, Y/N,” someone called from set.

You gave a casual wave, sliding your phone into your bag. Cool. Easy. You’d done this before. You were the girl. The one who always looked good, always knew her angles, always gave the most convincing moans. No one ever knew they were fake.

No one needed to.

You only did this for the money. Never caught feelings, never chased orgasms. You could finish on your own time. You always did.

But when you walked onto set and saw him—arms crossed, shirtless, sweatpants hanging low, like the cameras were already rolling—your breath hitched.

And then his eyes locked on you.

Bakugo didn’t smile. He smirked. All sharp teeth and slow drags of his gaze. Like he was already undressing you in his head.

“‘Bout time,” he said, voice low and cocky.

You raised a brow. “Don’t get cocky, Dynamight.”

He stepped forward, close enough that you had to tilt your chin up. He smelled like something spicy—cologne, sweat, and danger. His smirk widened.

“Too late, princess. I’ve seen your work. Bet I could make you actually cum.”

You laughed. It came out a little shaky. “You think you’re the first guy to say that?”

“Nah,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from your cheek like he had every right to touch you already. “But I’ll be the first one to prove it.”

You rolled your eyes, but your stomach flipped anyway. Cocky bastard. You weren’t new to bold claims—hell, you’d heard that same line from half the industry. But something about the way he said it, all low and sure like it was a promise, made your pulse skip.

You turned away before he could see the heat rising to your cheeks.

The scene started like any other.

Lights. Camera. Action.

You were on your back, legs spread, eyes half-lidded. Your moans were perfectly timed, your hands moving just how they were supposed to.

Bakugo was above you, teasing at first, fingers trailing up your thigh, smirking like he had all the time in the world. You tried to stay in character. Tried to focus.

But then his fingers actually slipped inside, and holy shit—

You bit your lip.

That felt… different.

His fingers weren’t just thrusting. They curled. Pressed. Rubbed against the spot you usually had to hunt for on your own. And when he looked down at you, his eyes weren’t blank or performative. They were locked in. Watching every twitch of your mouth. Every hitch in your breath.

“You always fake it this early?” he muttered under his breath, so low only you could hear.

Your stomach flipped. Your thighs tensed.

“What?” you managed, voice barely a whisper.

Bakugo chuckled. It rumbled low in his chest.

“You’re tight,” he said, dragging his thumb over your clit just right. “But you ain’t clenching like you mean it. Not yet.”

And then he sucked on your inner thigh.

Not for the camera. Not for show.

For you.

Your back arched on instinct.

“Relax,” he murmured, lips brushing against your skin. “I got you.”

And you hated—hated—how badly you wanted to believe him.

He didn’t start slow.

He licked into you like he was starving, like he’d been starving, and this was his first meal in weeks. His tongue was hot, wet, relentless—flicking against your clit in firm, practiced strokes that had your legs trembling before you could even bite back the first moan.

You weren’t acting.

Not anymore.

Your hands gripped the sheets beneath you, white-knuckled, and your lips parted like you wanted to say something, but all that came out was a broken little gasp.

“Oh fuck—”

He hummed against you. Smug bastard.

“Don’t hold back now, princess,” he murmured, dragging his tongue up your slit slow, then latching back onto your clit like he owned it. “Let’s show ‘em what it looks like when it’s real.”

You whimpered. Whimpered. You didn’t do that.

Not even when Keigo pulled out the toys. Not even when Touya did that breathy thing in your ear.

This was different.

You tried—tried—to keep it together, but his mouth moved like he already knew every inch of you. Tongue swirling, lips sucking, fingers still working inside you like he wasn’t giving you a fucking choice. He knew exactly where to press, where to flick, when to slow down and when to pick it back up again.

And it wasn’t even for the camera.

It was for you.

Your stomach coiled, tight. Too tight.

Your breathing hitched. Your thighs started to shake. You were going to—

“No,” you gasped, voice panicked, eyes fluttering. “Don’t—fuck—I’m—”

“Yeah you are,” Bakugo growled, pulling back just long enough to look at you. His mouth was wet with you, lips swollen, eyes wild. “C’mon. Don’t fake it. Just fuckin’ let go.”

And then he sucked—hard—right over your clit.

Your body snapped.

The orgasm hit like a wave crashing through you, ripping the air from your lungs. You didn’t fake it. You couldn’t. Your moans were raw, broken, punched out of you like the wind got knocked from your chest. You shook, hands flying to his hair, thighs locking around his head as your back arched off the bed.

And he didn’t stop.

Kept going. Licking, pressing, dragging your orgasm out like he wanted to ruin you.

You came again, again, before you’d even come down from the first.

Your voice cracked. “Bakugo, I—I can’t—”

“Yeah you can,” he muttered, not letting up for a second. “You’re doin’ so fuckin’ good. Look at you.”

You couldn’t. Your vision blurred. Your whole body was buzzing, on fire, shaking like you’d lost control of every single nerve ending. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You didn’t lose it like this.

But god, he was still licking you through it, fingers still curling right there, his voice low and wrecked as he talked you through it like he wanted to brand the sound of your orgasm into your memory forever.

“You gonna cum for me again?” he asked, voice gravel and heat, eyes flicking up to meet yours.

You nodded, desperate, lost.

“Say it,” he growled. “Say it’s real.”

Your lips trembled.

“It’s real,” you gasped, breathless, broken. “It’s real, fuck I’m gonna—”

And just like that, you came undone again. Loud. Messy. Helpless.

Bakugo didn’t stop until your hips were twitching, your thighs were soaked, and your moans turned into soft little sobs of overstimulation.

The lights above you still burned hot. The cameras were still rolling. But everything else felt far away—muted, blurry, unreal. Your legs were jelly. Your chest rose and fell like you’d just run a marathon. And Bakugo was still between them, licking his lips like he’d just tasted something forbidden and planned to do it again.

Your brain was still fogged when he stood, stretching to his full height.

Then his hands were back on you, big and warm and so sure, gripping your waist like he owned it. He flipped you over effortlessly, face down, ass up, skin still hot and damp with sweat. Your thighs trembled when they spread open again, already overstimulated and soaked.

Bakugo slid his hands up your back. Slow. Possessive.

“You feel that?” he murmured, leaning over you, his cock grinding against your ass with lazy pressure. “That twitch in your legs? That little shake?”

You nodded weakly, eyes fluttering.

“That’s mine now.”

Your breath caught as he pulled his hips back. You barely had time to process before the thick head of his cock was pressing against your entrance—hot, heavy, and already wet from you.

“You ready?” he asked, but it wasn’t a question. It was a warning.

Then he pushed in.

Slow. All the way to the hilt. Letting you feel every inch. Stretching you open, filling you to the fucking brim. You choked on a moan, fingers gripping the sheets like your life depended on it.

He didn’t move at first. Just stayed there, buried deep inside you, letting your pussy throb around him.

“Goddamn,” he muttered, hips flexing. “So fuckin’ tight. Can feel you squeezing me already.”

You were. He hadn’t even started moving yet and you were clenching around him like you didn’t want him to leave.

Then—he moved.

A slow drag out. A sharp thrust back in. Deep. Deeper. Your mouth dropped open. No sound came out.

“That the spot?” he murmured, hips rolling again, hitting the same angle, slow and deliberate.

You nodded, gasping.

“You better fuckin’ tell me when you’re close,” he growled, pace still maddeningly slow. “I wanna feel it. I wanna hear it.”

He reached around and pressed two fingers against your clit, rubbing soft, teasing circles that made your arms give out. You dropped to your elbows, back arching like he’d wired you for pleasure.

Then he started really fucking you.

Not fast. Not rough. Just deep. Every. Single. Stroke. Reaching places that made your eyes roll back. His hips snapped forward with just enough force to jolt you up the bed, his fingers never leaving your clit.

You moaned into the mattress, voice high and broken.

“That’s it,” he breathed. “That’s the fuckin’ sound I wanted.”

You were spiraling. Every thrust, every rub, every low growl in your ear sent you closer to the edge.

“Bakugo, I—I’m gonna—”

“Yeah?” he grunted, hips picking up speed, still hitting that spot that made your toes curl. “Then fuckin’ cum for me.”

You shattered.

You clenched around him so tight he groaned, biting down on a curse as your body trembled under him. Your moan punched out of your throat, high and wrecked and real.

But he didn’t stop.

“Oh fuck—fuck, wait—” you gasped, hips twitching as he kept thrusting, dragging you straight into another orgasm with no break.

He leaned over you, voice low in your ear. “Not fakin’ now, huh?”

You shook your head wildly, whining into the sheets.

“Bet you never came like this on set before,” he said, voice rough. “Bet no one’s ever made you cum like this off it either.”

He wrapped a hand in your hair and pulled gently, just enough to lift your head.

“Say it.”

You could barely speak. “No one. No one but you.”

“Damn right.”

His thrusts sped up, rougher now, deeper. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, joined by your wrecked little gasps, your whines, the slick mess between your thighs.

“You hear that?” he said, low and smug. “That fuckin’ sound your pussy’s makin’? That’s all me.”

You whimpered, and he slapped your ass—not hard, just enough to make you clench again.

“Ohhh, fuck,” he groaned, hips stuttering. “You’re gonna make me cum just like that.”

And then he slammed into you. Hard. Once. Twice. Over and over. You screamed—literally—as another orgasm crashed through you, your body locking up, eyes rolling back.

“Fuckfuckfuck—” he gasped, and then pulled out just in time to stroke himself twice, thick ropes of cum painting your back, his voice ragged as he came with a low, wrecked growl.

You collapsed.

No faking. No poses. Just you, ruined on the sheets, shaking and soaked and completely fucking gone.

Bakugo dropped to his knees behind you, panting. He grabbed a towel off the edge of the bed, wiped you down gently—so gently it made your chest ache.

“You good?” he asked, voice quiet now. Careful.

You nodded, still dizzy. Still pulsing. Still floating.

“I came so many times I lost count,” you whispered, dazed.

He chuckled, cocky and low. “Good.”

You rolled onto your side, trying to catch your breath.

“That was supposed to be a scene,” you mumbled. “That felt like a fucking movie.”

Bakugo leaned in, kissed your bare shoulder, then smirked against your skin.

“Baby,” he murmured, “that was just the warm-up.”

You snorted softly, still breathless. “You’re insane.”

“You love it.”

Your legs were still trembling, body wrecked and used and buzzing. But something else was humming under your skin now. That ache in your core—not from need, but from power.

You rolled over, slow and deliberate, dragging your fingers down his chest. His eyes tracked every movement.

“Get on your back,” you whispered.

Bakugo raised a brow but didn’t argue. He leaned back against the pillows, smirking like he thought he still had the upper hand.

His hair was damp with sweat. His lips were swollen. His chest rose and fell in hard, uneven breaths. You’d never seen him like this.

Your grin widened.

You leaned down and kissed him—soft, slow, way too good to be acting. Then you sat back, hips lifting off him, and slid down his body.

“Where you goin’?” he rasped, half-laughing, half-breathless.

You looked up at him from between his thighs, eyes dark, lips parted. “Didn’t say I was done with you yet.”

His breath caught.

You licked up the underside of his cock—slow, teasing, wet. He twitched in your hand, muscles tensing as you took your time, letting your mouth work him like you had something to prove. And maybe you did. Maybe you just wanted to see him fall apart the way he’d done to you.

You looked up, mouth wrapped around the tip, and saw it—the crack in his composure. The soft clench of his jaw. The desperate twitch in his thigh. The helpless sound he made when you sucked just right.

“You’re so sensitive, you’re not gonna last,” you said around him, lips brushing the head.

His fingers gripped the sheets. “Don’t—don’t stop.”

You didn’t.

You kept going, messy and perfect, tongue flicking and mouth sinking deeper, until he was panting, until he was cursing under his breath, until his hips jerked off the bed.

And then you pulled off, slow, dragging your tongue over the tip one last time.

He made a noise—wrecked.

You climbed back up his body, straddling his hips again. His hands found your thighs like muscle memory, gripping tight.

You leaned down, lips brushing his jaw.

“Beg.”

He froze. “What?”

You rolled your hips once, just enough to feel the slide of his cock against your slick entrance.

“Say it,” you whispered. “Tell me you want it.”

Bakugo swallowed hard. His voice was low, rough. “I want it.”

You licked the shell of his ear, teasing. “Not good enough.”

His hands trembled where they held you. Then he growled, breath hot.

“Please.”

You stilled.

“What was that?”

He gritted his teeth. Looked up at you like he hated how much he meant it.

“Please,” he repeated. “I want you. Need you. Fuck, I’ll say whatever you want—just ride me.”

You smiled. Real. Slow. Lazy and smug.

Then you sank down on him—deep, wet, tight—and his whole body arched beneath you, a broken moan punching out of his throat like you’d ripped it from his chest.

His hands flew to your hips.

You rode him slow. Sweet. All control. And when he finally came again—loud, raw, completely undone—you kissed him through it. Held him through it.

And when he whispered your name afterward, soft and stunned, like he didn’t know what just hit him

You smiled. Because for once, it wasn’t just acting.

Neither of you moved right away. His arms were still around you, chest rising and falling under your cheek, skin damp with sweat, muscles twitching beneath your fingers. Your heart was still beating too fast, and so was his.

Eventually, though, you had to get up. Had to move. The spell didn’t break, exactly—it just faded enough to remember where you were, who you were, what this was supposed to be.

You pulled on your robe in silence, legs still shaking slightly, and glanced at him across the bed. He sat up slow, pushing his hair back, watching you with something unreadable in his eyes. Like maybe he had more to say, but didn’t know how. Or didn’t think he should.

You hesitated.

So did he.

“Um…I’ll see you around,” you said, trying to make it sound casual, even though your voice came out a little too soft.

“Yeah,” he said, standing and reaching for his clothes. “Guess you will.”

Your stomach twisted, weirdly tight, but you smiled anyway. You nodded once, turned, and walked off set without looking back.

You didn’t see the way he watched you go.

Didn’t see the way his fingers flexed like he wanted to reach for you.

Didn’t hear the low, quiet fuck that slipped from under his breath when the door finally shut behind you.

You got home and didn’t even shower right away.

You peeled off your clothes slow, every muscle sore in the best possible way, and collapsed into bed wearing nothing but an oversized hoodie and your post-fuck glow. Your thighs ached. Your voice was half-gone. Your lips were still swollen.

You looked wrecked.

You felt worse.

And yet somehow, the only thing you could think about was him. The way he’d looked at you. The way he sounded saying your name. The way his hands had held you after like he wasn’t ready to let go.

You tried to distract yourself. Pulled up the scene, freshly posted not even an hour ago.

It already had thousands of likes. Hundreds of comments. More than anything you’d dropped in months.

You scrolled.

StepOnMeY/N: Holy shit, that was unreal.

BbyBakuGo: not y/n faking with everyone but bakugo

ToyasToy: Was that real? Tell me that was real.

It was.

You scrolled further.

KeigoOfficial: I feel personally offended. Gonna have to step my game up. Rematch y/n?

TouyaTodo: faked it? With me? damn. i must be losing my edge. hit me up when you wanna make it real doll.

You smirked.

Your DM notifications were blowing up. People you’d worked with. People you hadn’t. Everyone suddenly curious. Hungry. Competitive.

Your stomach flipped. It was fun. It was flattering. But none of it hit quite the same.

Then you saw it.

BakugoK: Already need more from my favorite girl.

You stared at it.

Read it once.

Twice.

A third time, just to make sure it was real.

Your breath caught in your throat. Your fingers went numb. You sat up in bed, heart pounding in your chest like it was trying to escape. Because what the fuck did that mean?

You clicked on his profile. Double checked that it was him.

It was.

No emoji. No game. Just a single comment that said everything and nothing all at once.

Already need more.

Favorite girl.

You slammed your laptop shut and screamed into your pillow. You kicked your feet like a schoolgirl. You laughed—hysterical, breathless, completely losing your mind.

Then you opened your laptop, stared at the comment again, and whispered out loud to no one

“Oh my god.”

Because yeah—you’d done this a hundred times. But this one was different.

Bsd requests open? Say no more!

What about bedtime headcanons for Chuuya xPortMafia!reader? With their hours it must be crazy but I often wonder what their wind down routine is! -✨

CHUUYA X PORTMAFIA!READER ♡₊˚・₊✧

since both of you work at the Port Mafia you don't have much time to spend together. between your missions, the days Chuuya has to stay out city and the paperwork you barely have fre time.

when Chuuya is on long missions and he has to leave for several days he makes sure to keep contact -both because he misses you and to let you know he's fine.

he doesn't like texting via messages so he would probably send you love letters written in a messy handwriting (he tries to make it look nice anyway) or call you to hear your sweet voice again.

when you two finally manage to be together he instantly takes you out at fancy restaurants or theater to dress nice and look cool with you.

when both of you are home he insists to cook.

you have a large bed with lots of cushions and he loves cuddling there.

I think he'd love to be hugged with his head on your shoulder or chest and just relax feeling your fingers running though his hair.

he's the little spoon but he prefers sleeping on his back and having you on top of him or just your head on his chest.

⋆˚࿔ WIND DOWN ROUTINE 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

night? say no more! it's drinking time! I mean, really, he has the best wines ever and he has no doubt he wants to drink them with you. he'll just sit there, on the sofa or an armchair, holding a glass of wine and telling you to sit with him and enjoy your time (he does it more oftenly on the armchair because there's not enough space and you have to sit on his lap).

he loves when you just start kissing him and cuddling with him.

he loves to put music on and dance with you. his favorite options are tango and waltzer but he'll do as you wish.

when you're in bed you usually cuddle until you fall asleep,

Pairing: Chuuya x reader

Contents: NSFW, pool sex 101; sneaking into your neighbour's private pool while drunk definitely has its perks, reader will have those tiles imprinted in their back for days, my bad. Approx 1.5k words

Public pools might have been a step wiser. 

Or not. To be honest you weren’t all that concerned. They were Chuuya’s neighbours after all. Old, rich neighbours with basement pools and a pretty weak home security as it turned out. 

You could have rented a place–a nice and cosy jacuzzi. Maybe you should do that too sometime. But why do it now when this was undoubtedly at your quickest disposal?

The water was surprisingly warm against your naked skin. It gently reflected the dim purple lighting that came from… somewhere. You couldn't remember; Chuuya had taken care of that. 

The wine from earlier was still coursing under your skin. Your face was flushed and mind mushy as you relaxed against the tiles. All the while Chuuya’s body kept you afloat and close, so deliciously close to his.

His hair tickled your neck under the water, but his mouth–oh. His mouth trailed heated, open kisses down your jaw and throat. He was biting and licking his way around your naked body leisurely, savouring every bit of exposed skin.

Jacuzzis could wait, you had more pressing matters.

Damn. You couldn’t even swim. The thought amused you more than anything. Drunk and drowning didn’t sound like a good way to go. But that was silly. 

You weren’t going anywhere with the way Chuuya held you. 

He was like a furnace even now–his hands gripping you as they sent his warmth through your body. His tongue trailed strips of saliva that had your skin prickle. He was everything around you, and more. Gentle, slow, all-consuming of your senses.

Chuuya was so filled with life and passion that the man before you now almost felt foreign. It’s rare he hit the brakes and took his merry time like this. You could barely keep your hands off each other–normally.

Not now. Now it was… calm. Intimate in a quiet type of way, but no less intense. 

You wrapped your thighs around Chuuya, drawing his attention as he looked up at you. 

“Hey,” you said, the word feeling silly on your tongue.

Chuuya cocked his head, flashing you his trademark grin. “Hey, you,” he said, and he drew you neared against the tiles. Chest to chest, you felt his already hard cock brush against your thigh. 

“Oh.” You blinked. Yeah, pool sex was definitely on the plate for tonight. “This is nice. I kind of feel like melting though.”

Chuuya cupped your cheek, brushed the hair sticking to your face. “Yeah? You look the part too, doll. You need a fan or something? Am I too much for ya?” And he wiggled his brows like he was actually funny. What a loser.

It was no joke. He was too much. 

Always. 

There was too much adoration in Chuuya’s gaze, too much teasing at times, too much love as he crawled right under your skin the harder you fell for him. Wine made you sentimental like that, and it wasn’t helping you much this time either.

“Mhm… don’t ever stop being too much,” you whispered the words. There, sincere and simple. “I think I’ve gone addicted to it.” You were aware of all of him. Every touch of skin between you. The way Chuuya stilled for a second, muscles unmoving before he sagged right into your embrace. 

He sought your lips, stealing your breath and thoughts right away with it. He always managed to coax your reservations away, letting him in easily as your kiss deepened. 

“Don’t go all mushy on me like that. You’ve no idea what you do to me,” Chuuya said between kisses. 

But you knew. You felt it as your hand travelled down to wrap around his cock. Your fingers brushed over his tip and Chuuya hissed. He didn’t move besides leaning his forehead against yours, his breath hot against your parted lips. 

“I can do a lot more to you.” You guided him to your entrance. You’ve been wet and ready long enough now. It was Chuuya’s teasing that got you like this, it would only be fair to return the favour. Albeit with a bit more.

“Fuck.” Chuuya bucked his hips, breathing deep as you shuddered against him. “ I can be just as good for ya, baby. Let me be good for ya, yeah? Come on, come on–” he moved again, brushing his tip against your pussy lips. 

Chuuya’s patience was a skill he implemented rarely. This was definitely not one of those times. Not with the way he kissed you again, desperate and wanting.

He loved it when you desired him; the way you sought his touch, his attention. He wanted you to want him. And he was going to give his all when you finally caved.

Chuuya entered you slowly, the sensation of his pulsing cock stretching you made you clutch around him even harder. It was maddening and your impatience was showing its ugly head too.

“Chuuya.” You gripped his hips with your thighs. You hoped he sensed your desperation.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, smiling at your moan as he gripped your ass, spreading you wider as he sunk fully into your heat. 

Chuuya didn’t give you time to formulate another thought. Any thought, really, as he started fucking into you. Your chest felt tight and your legs trembled as you welcomed him in. Chuuya kept you in place, hands firm around you as he pushed your back into the tiles with every hard thrust. If a man could be both gentle and absolutely wrecking your world in two–it was no other than Chuuya. He was more than ready and willing to do the job and leave you gasping from his every move. 

You were distantly aware of the sound of ripples, the water around just as restless. You were too busy gripping onto Chuuya’s shoulders, your lips on his ear as your whispered string of oh fuck fuck fuck– more, oh godd yes more, Chuuya– spilt forth and right into his brain as he delivered on your demands. 

Chuuya’s hand was on your clit in seconds, working fast as his swift fingers sent your body in shock from the waves of pleasure that travelled down your abdomen. 

“Fuck–” you gasped, bringing his face towards you. Chuuya’s eyes were on you, soaking in your every detail. He was so beautiful then. “I want you,” you whispered, the desire for him overwhelming.

Chuuya’s gaze fell on your lips. He ground his hips, aiming for that sweet spot of yours again again again. You nearly lost it then and there. “You turn demanding when you’re like this, angel. I’m right here.” He captured your lips, swallowing your moan. “Right here, babygirl.”

“I want you more,“ you said, and then laughed. You have no idea what that meant, but it felt right. You wanted more. All. 

Chuuya wasn’t too much. He was not enough. 

You didn’t give him a chance to answer. His mouth was yours to take, his lips parting instantly to let you in. Your hips moved with his, the water spilling around you like crazy. You didn’t care; you wanted him. 

And you came like that, gripping onto Chuuya like your life depended on it, his bruised lips still moving against yours as you stifled his needy grunts in turn. You felt yourself tighten as your pleasure spilt, drawing a groan from Chuuya as his thrusts became sloppy. He buried his face in your neck, biting hard as the seconds went by before he was finishing inside you, shuddering from the shock of it. 

You sagged against him a moment later, as though you were the more exhausted one. Maybe you were; Chuuya wasn’t one to spend his energy so quickly. He’d probably go for a second round if you asked it of him.

But now… your gaze lingered on the purple flicks of light dancing around you. The water calmed down as both of you stood still in each other’s embrace. The seconds went by.

Finally, Chuuya raised his head. “What’s your opinion on water beds?”

You snorted. “We buying that now?” you brushed his hair back. “Why not just a pool?”

You joked but for a moment Chuuya went quiet. He was considering it. You blinked at him in disbelief before laugher bubbled out of your chest. Chuuya looked at you then, brow raised.

“Hah? What’s so amusing, you punk?” he said. “Take it more seriously. I’m a sold man on the idea.” And he flapped his hand, sending specks of water all around you.

It took you another moment to collect yourself again. “Sure, sure,” you sighed, smiling stupidly at your silly, absurd, perfect man. “You might be onto something, we’ll see.” You tried to hide your excitement as Chuuya levelled you suspiciously. “I… might need some more convincing though.”

A bit of silence followed by Chuuya’s hands falling on your hips again. “Is that a challenge? I’m very convincing, you know.” He grinned before capturing your lips again.

You sighed against him, melting right into Chuuya’s embrace yet again. 

He might be too much to handle sometimes, but you had a knack for those things. You had the experience and practice after all.

soukoku as one of my dearest renaissance paintings

࿐ Nerdjo who subconsciously draws little sketches of you through out his notes and assignments. Frowning at his little creations along his paper when turning it in. (“Ah- uhm wait I forgot to erase something.”)

He never erases the pretty ones.

Nerdjo who calls out your friends as they’re talking behind your back. (“If she’s dumb she’d still be hanging out with you.”)

Nerdjo who sighs when you stick your hand in his snack bag, giggling when you expect him to scold you.

He pushes the bag closer to you.

Nerdjo moping as he finally washes the fabric you’ve left your scent on.

Nerdjo whose eyes widen when you correct an answer on his paper, unsure how to respond to the flush reaching his cheeks as he pushes his glasses up.

Nerdjo who leans over during free period, watching you use social apps he’s never heard of. (“what’s..a tumblr?”)

He was even more intrigued when you hid your phone screen but he brushed it off.

Nerdjo who’s heart flutters as he hears you slip a DnD reference to your friends, silently giggling at the joke your friends raised eyebrows to.

Nerdjo who’s unfazed as ever as you hand him your phone to show him the pigtails and kawaii hairclips you’ve ruined his ghostly hair with.

“Hate em.”

(He wore them the rest of the day.)

Nerdjo who chokes up when his neighbor, Megumi shows up asking who’s the girl taking up their Pokémon trading time. (“since when did girls like you?”)

Nerdjo letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, as he stood behind you, helping you put on a necklace you definitely could’ve put on yourself.

Immediately turning his head to anything else in the room as you ask him if it looks good, the amulet sitting right inbetween your cleavage. (“Yeah- yea.”) (“you didn’t even look.”)

Part one || Part two || Part three

^^

The songs you grow to like never stick at first (Chapter 6)

Chapter 1 ++ Chapter 2 ++ Chapter 3 ++ Chapter 4 ++ Chapter 5

Falling for your best friend is a blessing and a curse at the same time, especially when it’s painfully obvious that your friend doesn’t feel the same. So what is Yuuji supposed to do? He doesn’t want to lose you but also can’t help wanting to get out of the friendzone. Maybe his other friends can help him. Or he just has to wait because sometimes the songs that become our all-time favorites are the ones that don’t stick at first.

Pairing: Yuuji x Reader (female) Genre: College AU, fluff, smut, my attempt at humor, friends to lovers Word Count: 8.5k Warnings: 18+, smut, a lot of cheesiness, pining, alcohol, masturbation, creampie, sex dreams, also real sex this time because Yuuji finally gets his reward! All characters are of age. The story and my blog contain 18+ content, so minors don't interact. 

Chapter 06: Hope this is the last time,'cause I'd never say no to you

Yuuji's mission during the following weeks is to be your source of comfort. And he takes this job very seriously. He knows what you need right now: A best friend. And Itadori Yuuji is the bestest best friend out of all best friends ever!! Especially because he knows a thing or two about heartbreak, so he has a list of things to do:

1. Always keep you busy! Distraction is key. There cannot be a single moment during the day where you even get the chance to think about Zenin Naoya.

2. Always make sure that you have enough comfort food and drinks.

3. Always let you know how amazing and lovable you are.

Yuuji is good at those things. He knows you better than anyone else, after all.

And so he knows which shows to pick that he can binge-watch with you. He knows which cakes to bake for you. He knows that you like to steal his hoodies because they are comfy and warm, and he makes sure to bring a spare one that he can hand to you. He knows which new manga he can lend to you. He knows which songs to put on a cheer-up playlist for you. He knows how you like your coffee and tea and which snacks to get you.

He wants to take care of you, wants to make you smile again, and put the pieces of your broken heart back together. Maybe his love for you can be the glue that works.

During the following weeks, Yuuji can see that you seem to get better, and it fills him with joy. He can see that you visibly relax when he is with you. That his hugs make you sigh and slump against him as if all the tension fades away when Yuuji holds you. He can see the delighted expression on your face when he tells you how sweet and amazing you are. He hears the shy chuckle when he compliments your eyes and tells you, respectfully of course, that yes your ass looks fantastic in that new pair of jeans.

"Are you feeling better?"

"Hmm yes, sometimes. I feel better when I'm with you. Thank you so much for being there for me, Yuu."

Yuuji's heart is beating way too fast at those words. He knows this is just a friendship thing, but he can't help but feel happy and proud that he is the one who can make you feel better.

That's also why Yuuji agrees to a spontaneous sleepover on one of those binge-watching nights. You're sitting next to him on your bed, and when Yuuji mentions that it's getting late, your hand darts out to wrap around his biceps:

"Please, one more episode!"

The message is clear. You don't want to be alone. It makes Yuuji's heart ache for you. And of course, he will do anything to help you. So he smiles and pats your knee.

"Ok, ok, I get it. We can watch as many episodes as you like. After all, there is a whole third season too!"

Your grateful smile is making Yuuji's chest swell with happiness. It feels good to be the source of your comfort.

So when two hours later you snuggle against his side and mumble a sleepy "Can you stay the whole night please?", Yuuji stays and tries to ignore the way his traitorous heart and dick both throb at the invitation.

How many times has he pictured something like this in his fantasies? Staying in your bed overnight. In his dreams, you always end up making out and tearing each other's clothes off.

But Yuuji is here to be a good friend who helps you through a breakup, not to have dirty fantasies about you!

And so he turns onto his side and lets you snuggle against his broad back, hugging him as you slowly drift off to sleep, and he can't help but lie awake for a long time just smiling in the dark and listening to your cute soft snores and feeling the warmth of your body against him.

"Are you a parking ticket? Because you've got FINE written all over you."

Yuuji can't stop himself from chuckling as he presses the send button while waiting in line in the coffee shop to get some iced coffee for you and himself.

He has started to send you the funny pickup lines again. While you were dating Naoya, he felt like he was overstepping and stopped sending them. But now it feels right again. Because even though Yuuji's attempts at flirting didn't work with you, he knows at least that the cheesy pickup lines made you laugh, and so he hopes that they will help cheer you up.

The guy behind Yuuji bumps slightly against his shoulder while staring unashamedly at the phone screen.

"Wow, you're smooth, bro. Bet you get all the girls."

Yuuji turns to him and shakes his head,

"Nah, man, those pickup lines aren't working. But they make for a good laugh, I guess."

The guy nods solemnly and claps Yuuji's back encouragingly,

"Keep your head up. I read somewhere that many chicks go for guys who make them laugh or the ones who can cook."

"Oh! Wow, that's great! I can make her laugh, and I can also cook! Thanks, bro!"

Naturally, Yuuji decides to pay you a visit that evening with a backpack full of ingredients he bought to cook your favorite meal. And he's very pleased to see a smile on your face when you realize what he's doing.

He likes this. He likes cooking for you and sending you funny messages, and watching movies with you. He likes taking care of you. He likes being your best friend and seeing that you feel better when he is around you.

After a few weeks, Yuuji even makes you go clubbing with him and some of your other friends. You try to turn him down at first, but Yuuji knows that once you leave the house, you will love it, and he believes that you deserve a fun night out. Some drinks and dancing and joking around with your friends will surely help you forget about your stupid ex, even if it's just for a few hours!

And so Yuuji shows up at your dorm with Nobara in tow, looking ridiculous wearing sunglasses at night and already slightly tipsy from sharing vodka shots in the back of Fushiguro's car.

You open the door wearing your pj's and gaping at them thunderstruck. But their good mood makes you laugh, and so you let Nobara usher you into your bedroom to pick a hot outfit for you.

Yuuji smiles and leans against your bedroom door, waiting for you to get dressed. He knows it's probably stupid, but he made sure to wear the tight black shirt that you like on him because fuck yes, it feels nice to get complimented by you, and last time he wore it, you kept staring at his chest, and it made Yuuji feel all giddy.

He hears Nobara exclaim loudly:

"Where is that idiot Itadori?! I need more vodka!"

Yuuji answers through the door:

"I'm here! Is everyone decent in there?"

He hears you laugh at his words, followed by a loud:

"Oh, just come inside, Yuuji! I have no problem changing in front of you. It's not like you haven't seen me in a bikini before, so a bit of underwear won't kill you!"

Well, if you only knew what the few times he saw you in a bikini did to him! Yuuji tries to steel himself by taking another gulp out of the vodka bottle before pushing the door open.

The first thing he sees is your cute ass in some lacy black panties, and he has to suppress a groan.

His night will be filled with fantasies about getting on his knees behind you, pulling those sexy little panties to the side, and worshipping that sweet ass and cute pussy with his hands and lips. Fuck! He has to stop!

Luckily Nobara almost tackles him to the floor at that moment and demands more vodka. So Yuuji has something to distract himself, and once his hungry gaze strays back to you, you are already dressed, still looking yummy as fuck in that short dress Nobara picked for you, but at least your ass isn't so much on display anymore.

"Does that look good, Yuu?"

"You look perfect! Sexy and pretty!"

Maybe drinking vodka wasn't the best idea because it makes his tongue even more loose than usual. But you smile broadly at him, obviously happy about the compliment. And it feels so fucking good when you come over to him and place a warm hand on Yuuji's pecs and compliment him back:

"Thank you! You look good too. I like that shirt on you. It shows how much you work out."

"Oh, stop salivating over Itadori's tiddies and come here so I can do your makeup!"

Yuuji's grin grows even bigger, and he knows that this night out was the best idea! He plops down on your desk chair and passes the vodka bottle around while Nobara does your hair and makeup. And once she is finished, Yuuji lets himself get pulled to his feet and throws his arms around his girls as all three of you make your way to Fushiguro's car.

He is happy to see an excited sparkle in your eyes when the three of you sit in the backseat, Yuuji in the middle, and he sings along loudly to all the songs that play in the car, making you laugh anytime he's doing the rap parts. He feels amazing!

The club is brimming with people. Yuuji doesn't waste any time and pulls you and Nobara directly onto the dancefloor while Fushiguro and Maki lean against the bar and share amused glances.

The most beautiful thing is to see you laughing again. You dance with Nobara and Yuuji and sing along to the songs, and the smile on your face is so carefree that it fills Yuuji's chest with warmth.

His hands land on your hips when you grind against him, and here in the middle of the dancefloor, with the dimmed light and the vodka clouding his mind, he can almost make himself believe that you are his girl. Especially when you turn around to wrap your arms around Yuuji's neck, getting on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek and shout into his ear over the loud music:

"Thank you for taking me here! I haven't had this much fun in weeks! You're the best, Yuu!"

He laughs happily and smiles his sunshine smile at you before taking your hand and spinning you around in a circle, making you squeal and laugh loudly when you almost collide with Nobara.

The most peculiar thing of the night happens when the three of you take a break from dancing to get more drinks at the bar. A girl comes up to Yuuji. She looks at him with a big smile, twirling a strand of her hair around her fingers as she blinks up at him through long eyelashes.

"Hey, you are really cute. Can I get your number, maybe?"

Yuuji remembers Junpei claiming that all the girls asking for Yuuji's number actually want to date him, and even he can see it this time because she couldn't be more direct about it. Yuuji gulps hard. He feels bad for the brave girl, but he is simply not interested in her. His heart is already taken, after all!

He scratches his neck a bit embarrassedly, trying to think of a nice way to turn her down. But before he can even say anything, he feels your hand slip into his, interlacing your fingers and stepping between Yuuji and the girl.

"Sorry, but his number isn't available."

Yuuji's eyes widen, but he nods enthusiastically,

"Yeah, she's right! Have a nice evening, though!"

And then you tug him back onto the dancefloor, your hand still holding his tightly, and Yuuji follows you gladly, placing his free hand on your hip to steer you through the crowd.

He thinks his heart will burst. He hasn't been this happy and carefree in a long time! You are single again and here with him! And out of all the people in this club, you only dance with Yuuji and laugh with him and throw your arms around him. You seem to be genuinely happy tonight after all those weeks of heartbreak.

And what was that thing with that girl just now? If he didn't know it any better, Yuuji would think you were jealous.

Reader's POV:

You can proudly say that you're over Naoya. It's been two months since that rainy night when you caught him with that other woman. Two months since your heart shattered into a thousand little pieces.

The first two weeks were the worst. You could barely bring yourself to leave the bed. If it hadn't been for Yuuji playing delivery boy and providing you with a neverending supply of meals and snacks, you don't know what you would have done.

And he didn't leave it at that. He looked at you with his big boyish grin and was like, "Ok, we have snacks, comfy clothes, and warm blankets. Time for a movie night!" The stubborn glint in his eyes told you that he wouldn't accept a no. Yuuji was on a mission to make you feel better, and you knew nothing could stop him. So you let him stay.

And if you were honest, you had to admit that you were very grateful for his insistence. Because Yuuji was good company. He was sweet and caring and funny and knew how to distract you at all times. And he was also big and buff and warm and gave the best hugs when you needed them. 

Yuuji made the ache in your heart lessen a bit more every day, and you caught yourself thinking several times that you wished you had never dated Naoya but instead a guy like Yuuji.

But there was no use in dwelling on the what-ifs. Yuuji was your best friend, and you were grateful for that! It was ok that he didn't see you as more than a friend. And after all, he was here to pick up the pieces of your broken heart and glue them together again, and you knew he would always do that. Yuuji was a constant in your life, which was worth a lot.

After those first two weeks, you were able to go about your regular schedule again, even though you still started tearing up when you saw happy couples or something that reminded you of Naoya. Your friends were amazing, though, and did anything they could to make you feel better. Especially Yuuji.

Gradually you felt better again. It became easier to sleep, easier to laugh again, and the more time passed, the less you thought of your ex.

And the ultimate proof that you are finally over Naoya happened this morning when you ran into him on your way to the college cafeteria, on a Monday morning two months after you caught that cheating bastard.

You were looking at your phone, texting Yuuji that your course got canceled and you had a free period now, and suddenly you bumped into someone who was also looking at his phone.

You looked up with an apology, and there he was! Naoya, looking immaculate as always, with perfectly styled hair, a fine suit and shoes, an expensive leather bag, and a sparkling Rolex on his wrist.

To your utter astonishment, you didn't feel sad or angry or anything like that. Instead, all you felt was indifference, and you caught yourself wondering for a moment why you ever thought this arrogant guy was hot.

You could see a slight panic crawl over his features when he realized who he had run into. He was probably worried you'd cause a scene in front of everyone. But all you did was smile politely at him and give him a curt nod,

"Good morning, Mr. Zenin. Have a nice day."

You didn't even bother to wait for a reply but proceeded to make your way down the hallway. The smile on your face grew wider, and by the time you walked into the cafeteria, you were grinning so broadly that Yuuji and Nobara both looked at you questioningly. However, before they could ask, you already slipped into a chair across from them and informed them excitedly:

"Guess what! I ran into Naoya, and I felt nothing at all! Guys, it's official, I am over him!"

Your life is back to normal now. Going to university, meeting your friends, attending the usual college parties on weekends.

Your crush on Yuuji might have returned full force, probably thanks to all the time the two of you spent together during your heartbroken state. But you try to ignore those feelings as much as possible. It's what you've been doing for years.

The turning point comes when you are shopping with Nobara, this time without Yuuji because he has to help Megumi walk their neighbor's dogs.

Nobara fixes you with a stern gaze across the table of the ice cream parlor you are currently taking a break in.

"You have to stop leading Itadori on."

You almost drop the spoon you are holding and blink at Nobara in shock. What?? She continues without giving you a chance to reply.

"It's not fair what you're doing to him. You know full well that he likes you!"

"I...what???"

"Come on, everyone knows! He's so bad at hiding it. His emotions are written all over his face! So don't tell me you don't know! You have to stop flirting with him. Like, what was that sleepover? And why are you touching him all the time now? Or that stunt you pulled at the club when that girl asked for his number? You have to stop, or he will only get his hopes up!"

Finally, you find your voice again, but it's small and shaky as you stare at Nobara with wide eyes.

"What do you mean, Yuuji likes me?"

Nobara scrunches her nose and gives you a look that tells you you are more stupid than she thought.

"Seriously? Are you trying to tell me you don't know?"

You feel so hot all of a sudden. Your pulse is racing, and you're breathing way too fast. 

You never thought you had a chance with Yuuji! He's so popular, so sweet and funny and so so handsome! He's collecting phone numbers of girls and also boys all the time. And the most endearing thing is that he is so oblivious to it! He doesn't get that those people are hitting on him.

You don't know what came over you in the club. You had told yourself a long time ago that you couldn't have Yuuji, and so you didn't allow yourself to act on any jealousy. But that night in the club, you had felt it again when that girl had tried to flirt with your Yuuji. Jealousy, icy cold and burning like acid in your veins, and before you could stop yourself, you had intervened.

Afterwards, you had forbidden yourself to think about it or what it could mean. You had just gotten over your ex! You couldn't afford to fall hard for your best friend all over again and end up heartbroken because Yuuji didn't want you that way!

But now things are different, of course.

If Nobara is correct, then that means... It means you can allow those feelings. You can let yourself think about Yuuji in that way.

It's exhilarating, making your heart beat too fast and your head spin with all the possibilities. You can't stop grinning like a madwoman and laugh softly while tears gather in your eyes. It's almost too much. The realization that the person you love the most can actually be yours if you want.

And yes, you absolutely want him! Because this makes sense, Yuuji and you make sense. It's the thing that always made sense from the very frist day you met, and it continued to make sense over the following months and years.

Yuuji is the one who is always there for you. The one who cheers you up on your bad days, the one who makes soup for you when you are sick, the one who always remembers your coffee order, the one who picks you up in the middle of the night and gives you his hoodie to keep you warm.

The boy with the big smile and the pretty honey eyes that always gaze at you with so much love and affection. The one who always makes you laugh and makes you feel like you can be yourself around him, and he likes you exactly the way you are. The one who you can always rely on. The one you know like the back of your hand.

Love was always here, right in front of you. Because Yuuji was here. As your best friend and apparently also secretly in love with you just like you were in love with him.

It's bittersweet to think about it. How long has this been going on? How long has Yuuji liked you as more than friends? How much time did you waste on other people when you could have had Yuuji as your boyfriend?

You curse yourself for giving up on your crush on him ages ago because you always assumed you would never have a chance with him. Hell, when you think back to all the things you said during the last months, you feel sick. It must have broken his heart!

"Shit! I'm so dumb!"

You bury your face in your hands and groan loudly.

Nobara's laughter drifts to your ears, and a moment later, she pulls your hands off your face and makes you look at her.

"You are both dumb. But it's no use dwelling on past mistakes. Get a grip and get your man!! You know he likes you now, and he's a disaster at all of this, so you are the one who has to fix it. Make the first move!"

Her words make you chuckle. Sweet Yuuji. He can really be a bit dense, and it's so cute! But of course, he's standing in his own way with it, so Nobara is probably right. You have to take the initiative!

"Ok! I'll ask him on a date!"

Yuuji's POV:

"Hey Yuu, do you want to go see a movie with me tomorrow night?"

Yuuji lifts his head and blinks at you from across the table in the coffee shop the two of you are currently sitting in.

"You mean as in going to the movie theater?"

You smile at him and nod.

"Yes! We haven't been in a while."

He hates his heart for beating faster at your suggestion. You aren't asking him on a date! This is just a friends thing. And you probably want to invite everyone else too just like the last time.

"Count me in! Who else do you want to ask?"

"No one. I just want to go with you."

You chuckle softly, and your gaze slips down to your iced coffee, fingers toying with the straw. You seem almost nervous. Yuuji thinks it's adorable. He wonders why you seem so shy all of a sudden but immediately chides himself silently to stop getting his hopes up over nothing! This is probably just a little thank you for the last few weeks where Yuuji helped you after your breakup. This isn't a date!

But somehow, the night at the movie theater still feels a bit like a date as much as Yuuji tries to scream at himself to get a grip. You are sharing popcorn, and your hands keep meeting in the bowl on his lap, fingers brushing over each other. Every touch of fingertips against his hand makes Yuuji's dick twitch in interest. Luckily the large bowl of popcorn hides every evidence of it.

But what are Yuuji and his dick supposed to do when you lean against his side and rest your head on his shoulder, sighing happily and turning your face into his neck to whisper:

"Mmmhh, you smell so good, Yuu."

Yuuji is such a confused and nervous mess once again. His dick throbs, his cheeks are burning, and his stomach holds so many butterflies that he surely won't be able to eat any more popcorn. Why does this feel like a movie date? He knows it isn't one!

But how far do best friends go? Is it normal to hold hands on the armrest between your seats? Is it a bestie thing to rest your head on Yuuji's shoulder? Is it normal friendly behavior to feed each other popcorn out of your hands and laugh and squeal when you lick each other's fingers in the process?

Would Yuuji do the same with Fushiguro or Junpei, or Nobara? He tries hard to imagine it, but somehow he is pretty sure Fushiguro would tell him it's stupid to play with food, and Nobara would surely punch him. Junpei maybe... but on the other hand, he would probably feel so awkward about eating out of each other's hand that he'd never go to a movie with Yuuji ever again.

So why does it feel so natural to do this with you?

It's after the movie ends and the two of you walk outside, your hand wrapped around Yuuji's bicep, thumb stroking over his muscles when Yuuji realizes you are staring at him, and he turns his head to look at you, only to get greeted with a somewhat sheepish expression on your pretty face,

"Is everything ok?"

Your eyes widen, and you nod, but you keep staring at him while gnawing your bottom lip and tightening your hold on his arm.

"Yuu... I...um... there's something I... I want to..."

Before you can finish your sentence, you get interrupted by loud cheers of "Tiger of Jujutsu College!"

The guys from the boxing club! Yuuji laughs and lifts a hand in greeting. When they finally leave for the snack stand Yuuji asks you curiously:

"Sorry. What did you want to say?"

"Oh... um... it's nothing. I forgot."

But you seem so flustered somehow, and Yuuji can't help but think that something is going on that he doesn't quite get. A small part of his brain whispers that you wanted to confess your hidden feelings for him. But Yuuji instantly shuts that voice down. It's impossible! He has to stop those fantasies! This is not a rom-com! The two of you are friends, and that's all it will ever be!

The movie night was very confusing! But it is only one of many things that make Yuuji wonder what is going on between the two of you.

Because suddenly, Yuuji is the one who receives text messages with cheesy pickup lines. He yelps loudly the first time it happens, right there in the middle of his movie analysis course. Yuuji stares at the text with big eyes and reaches out to grab Fushiguro's forearm tightly. 

"What is it now, Itadori?"

"Look at this!!"

He shoves his phone into his friend's hand, letting him read the message that says clear and bright:

"Are you a broom? Because you've swept me off my feet!" 

"(Y/n) sent you this??"

"Yes!! Fushiguro, Inumaki was right!! These things work after all!!"

Junpei is leaning towards them now too, to read the message over Yuuji's shoulder, followed by an encouraging clap on his back.

Their little commotion catches the attention of their professor, and a moment later, he is standing next to Yuuji with a big grin on his face.

"What are you boys yelling about?"

"Oh, sorry, professor Gojo! But I received a flirty message, and I am excited!"

"Oh my god! Let me see!!"

Next to him, Fushiguro groans as if in pain, and Yuuji hands his phone to his professor, who squeals and announces loudly to the whole course:

"That's so cute! Ok, forget today's initial plan. We are going to talk about rom-coms now!! Everybody share your faves!"

Yuuji beams at professor Gojo and nods happily while Fushiguro huffs,

"Please not the rom-coms now. Why do I even bother to do my assignments for this sorry excuse of a movie analysis course?"

But Yuuji is happy, and he knows that Megumi is happy for him too. 

After a week of being the receiver of flirty messages, Yuuji can't stop himself from wondering if it could be possible that maybe, just maybe, things have changed, and he might have a chance with you after all?

Because there are all those signs and it's really hard to find "just friends" explanations for them. The two of you do the same things as usual, but it's different.

You always liked to sit on Yuuji's lap when there wasn't any space left. But now, you also choose his lap as your preferred seating even when other seats are available.

And you compliment Yuuji a lot lately, making him grin and blush and bask in the giddy feeling of euphoria when you tell him he smells good and his eyes look so pretty in that lighting and that his hair is so soft and cute and that his muscles look so defined. All the praise makes Yuuji feel so warm, and his heart is beating so fast that he fears he will get a nosebleed.

And all those little affectionate gestures just keep getting more and more.

Just like today, when Yuuji accompanies you on another shopping spree, and you take his hand and never let go of it the whole time you are walking next to each other. He doesn't even have to pretend all that much to imagine that he is your boyfriend.

It makes him grin like an idiot the whole time, and he can't help but caress your hand with this thumb, which makes you turn to him with a warm smile, and before Yuuji knows what's happening, you get on your tip toes and kiss his cheek and whisper in his ear:

"You are so cute, Yuuji."

He wraps his arms around you, pulls you into a tight hug, and leans down to kiss your cheek too, gentle and sweet, with all the love and happiness he feels at that moment.

"Aww, thank you, princess. You are even cuter, though."

He is sure that to everyone around you, the two of you must look like boyfriend and girlfriend.

A strong craving surges through Yuuji at that thought. He wants that. He wants it to be real.

Maybe he should finally tell you about this. What if he lets you know about his wishes, his feelings? What if he tells you that his heart is yours? That he is yours and that he wants you to be his too?

You have ice cream in the cute pastel-colored ice cream parlor near the exit of the shopping mall, and somehow your hand is still in Yuuji's as you sit next to him and lick your ice cream, and his heart is beating so fast that he thinks everyone in a radius of ten meters must hear it.

This feels exactly like what Yuuji wished for. Doing all the things he usually does with you but with the added little things that cross that line between being friends and being girlfriend and boyfriend. Is it really happening? Could you want him as more than a friend too?

"This kinda feels like a date."

His pulse is racing even more after saying those words, but Yuuji feels it's relatively safe to say that because if you start laughing about it, he can just join and act like he meant it as a teasing little joke and nothing more.

But you don't do that. Instead, your eyes sparkle happily as you smile at Yuuji and your hand gives his a gentle squeeze, and your next words make Yuuji's world turn upside down in the best way possible:

"It can be one if you like."

Yuuji forgets to breathe for a moment and stares at you, totally dumbfounded.

All these months of secretly longing to cross that line, and now it seems like you already stepped over that imaginary line without Yuuji noticing. And now you are on the other side, waiting for him to join you with a nervous smile on your face and hope in your eyes.

Yuuji nods wildly, almost stumbling over his words, when he finally manages to blurt out:

"Oh my god! Yes!! Yes, please, I'd like that a lot! I want it to be a date!"

You both grin at each other, and Yuuji feels his head spin when you lean against his side with a soft happy-sounding sigh.

When the two of you leave the shopping mall a short while later, the sun is already setting, bathing everything in pink and orange light, turning the city into a pretty glowing dream.

It looks like a scene in a rom-com. Almost as if someone added a romantic filter to create the perfect scenery. The smell of cherry blossoms is in the air, and all the city noises seem muffled somehow because all Yuuji can focus on is you and the way your silhouette gets illuminated by the light of the sunset, and the way your hand feels in his.

He only tears his gaze away from you when a big fat raindrop hits his nose, and he looks upwards to the sky to see a wall of dark grey clouds gathering over the shopping mall.

"I guess we better run!"

Yuuji tightens his hold on your hand and yanks you with him, smiling when he hears your surprised screech that turns into happy laughter as you let Yuuji drag you along.

And not a second too soon because the rain starts for real now. It begins with a soft drizzle but quickly turns into a big downpour, just like that night when Yuuji drove into the city to pick you up.

The two of you seek shelter under a canopy of a nearby shop window, and Yuuji pulls you against him, so you both can fit under it. But that means you are very close now. So close that Yuuji fears you can really hear his heart beating because it won't stop racing in his chest.

But he can't help it. The two of you are on a date! And you are standing so close to him, and the way you tilt your face up and look at him is so intense that it drives Yuuji crazy!

Are you looking at his mouth? He gulps nervously and licks his lips, and yes, he watches your eyes follow the movement of his tongue, and Yuuji has to blink several times because omg, does that mean what he thinks it means? Do you...do you think about kissing him?

Your hand is suddenly on his chest, and Yuuji thinks he can feel the warmth of your skin seep through his hoodie. Even if you don't hear it, you can definitely feel how fast his heart is beating now.

"Yuu?"

"Hmm?"

"I.. um..."

You chuckle nervously and avert your eyes, and it's so sweet how flustered and shy you seem all of a sudden. You have never acted that way around him. It's so cute and reassuring that Yuuji isn't the only one who is nervous.

It's clear as day to him all of a sudden. You like him. You like him the same way he likes you.

And it didn't start today. It has been going on for several weeks already, right? Because looking back, so many things make so much sense all of a sudden. The movie date, for example! Because yes, looking back at it now, it was a date! And the hand holding and the getting possessive when that girl in the club wanted Yuuji's number. The cheesy pickup lines you initiated!

He remembers that one time you wanted to tell him something but then got interrupted by the guys from the boxing club. You tried to tell him how you feel, but he didn't see it because he was so set on believing that you couldn't be more than friends.

Now it's his turn to do something! It's not fair to let you do all the work! And before his nerves can get the better of him, Yuuji wraps his arms around your waist, looks deeply into your eyes, and asks softly:

"Can I kiss you?"

Your answer is a soft, cute gasp. Your fingers grab the collar of his hoodie, and you get on your tiptoes, nodding and smiling enthusiastically, and then your lips are on Yuuji's, and it's everything he ever wished for.

You kiss him eagerly, lips so soft and sweet against his. And Yuuji tightens his hold on you, pulling your body against his, hugging you and kissing you with newfound confidence, putting all the love and the longing he has been feeling for months into this first kiss.

He hopes you know how much he wanted this, how long he has been dreaming about you and him together like this.

His lips move surely but tenderly against yours, and he feels you relaxing in his arms and tilt your head further to get an even better kissing angle, allowing Yuuji to deepen the kiss when your lips open against his mouth.

He groans softly when your tongues brush against each other for the first time, sending shocks of electricity through his body, which make his skin tingle and the butterflies in his stomach go completely crazy.

It's a gentle but passionate kiss, deep and urgent. Maybe a bit desperate, but that's no wonder after both of you had been waiting so long for this to happen.

It's perfect.

Yuuji sighs into your mouth, his large hands sprawling over the small of your back, holding you tightly, caressing you through your sweater, warm and loving, like the kiss the two of you share.

Your tongue is so soft in his mouth, driving him crazy with those slow, tender licks, and the way your body presses against him feels so good. Like it's meant to be.

His head is spinning as if he's drunk, and that's probably what he is. Love drunk.

It's exciting and new to be this close to you, to cross that line between friendship and lovers. But at the same time, it feels so comfortingly familiar. After all, Yuuji is kissing the person who has been closest to him for years, the person he knows better than anyone else and who knows him better than anyone else too. His best friend and each other's home away from home.

And that's exactly what it is, Yuuji realizes: Kissing you feels like coming home.

He feels another smile tug at his lips. His whole body is filled with warmth and giddiness.

When the two of you pull apart, it is with a soft peck on each other's kiss-swollen lips, both giggling and grinning like idiots, eyes shining with happy tears.

Yuuji's hands remain on your waist, holding you loosely in his arms, and your fingers are still twisted in the soft fabric of his hoodie as your gaze meets his, eyes glittering cheerfully.

"Hey, Yuuji, do you know what your hoodie is made of?"

"Huh? What is it made of?"

"Boyfriend material!"

Yuuji blinks at you, speechless for a whole bunch of seconds, and then he breaks out into loud laughter, which you join immediately. The two of you clutch each other tightly, laughing until you have tears in your eyes, overflowing with serotonin.

"So, do you want to date my hoodie now? This is making me a bit jealous, you know. I thought we had something here..."

He can barely finish the sentence before laughing again, and you squeal and hit his chest playfully.

"Ok, ok, let me spell it out for you! Itadori Yuuji, will you please be my best friend and my boyfriend?"

Yuuji is sure he will burst from happiness. His face is starting to hurt from how big his smile is, and he nods eagerly, leaning closer to you so he can pepper little kisses all over your face while he gives you his answer, voice sounding a bit breathless:

"A"

kiss,

"thousand"

kiss,

"times,"

kiss,

"yes!"

The next kiss lands on your lips, and by the time the two of you pull apart again, the sky is already pitch black, and the stars are twinkling prettily above the city, apparently just as jubilant as Yuuji is.

Being your boyfriend is everything Yuuji dreamed it would be. No, it is even better! 

Lying here in bed with you, your naked bodies entangled after several rounds of horny fucking, which gradually turned into slow lovemaking. Your head on Yuuji's chest, leaving sweet soft kisses all over his pecs as you sigh happily and tell him you love him and how cute and sexy he is. His arms wrapped around you, fingers gently trailing up and down your spine, sweet loving caresses for the girl he loves so much.

He loves the intimacy, the warmth and love, and the trust.

That was something that was always missing in his former relationships or hookups. And Yuuji comes to the conclusion that all the pining and waiting was for a good reason.

He thinks the secret to how magical this feels is that the two of you didn't start as a romantic couple immediately. You were friends before that. You shared that closeness and special love that best friends have for each other. And now you added even more love to that. And sex. Mind-blowing, better-than-any-fantasy-ever-could-be-sex.

Yuuji grins happily as he lets one large hand wander down to your butt, grabbing one ass cheek and squeezing it gently. He is rewarded instantly by a soft moan, your warm breath brushing over one of his nipples and making him gasp softly.

"Yuu, I can't go another round. I'm so exhausted."

But your lips find his in a sweet kiss, and those kisses quickly become more intense, and soon you have forgotten your earlier words and are straddling Yuuji's lap, moaning into his mouth eagerly, and Yuuji can feel how wet you already are for him. Again. It drives him crazy anytime he feels it, anytime he feels the evidence of how turned on you are because of him.

Your hand wraps around his throbbing dick, making him moan lewdly as you stroke him to full hardness and guide him to your entrance. Yuuji's eyes roll back, and he hears you gasp when you slowly sink down on his hard length.

This is better than any of his wet dreams ever were. His hands knead your cute ass firmly, his hips snapping upwards, pushing his cock deeper into you, and he feels your velvety walls clench around him and hears you moan his name in that cute horny, and shaky voice that lets him know how much you love Yuuji's cock inside you.

"Let me help you, baby."

He half moans, half whispers, knowing your muscles must be sore from all the fucking the two of you did the whole week. Making up for all the lost time after all.

Yuuji is grateful for his stamina and strength, especially in moments like these when he needs to take care of his girl and help you ride him. He does so by holding your hips in a tight grip, lifting your body up and down on his cock, making you gasp and moan and mutter under your breath how strong and sexy he is.

It feels so fucking good! Yuuji lets his head fall back on the pillow, gazing up at you, forcing himself to keep his eyes open so he can see you. Your pretty fucked out face looking so cute and your perfect tits bouncing so sweetly as you ride him eagerly, your pace becoming wilder every second, needing more of him, always so crazy for him and his cock.

His eyes meet yours, and you both moan at the same time.

"Yuuji...ah! I love you, baby!"

His cock throbs at your tender words.

"Fuck! I love you too...fuck...love you so much, cutie...come here...baby.. ah! Ah fuck, need you..."

And you gasp and moan and lean down, pressing your wonderful body against Yuuji, your tits snug against his chest, hands tangling in his hair. Your lips find his in a sloppy heated kiss while Yuuji wraps his arms tightly around you, holding you as close as possible to him, dick so deep inside you while he rolls his hips and fucks you thoroughly with deep and loving thrusts.

You kiss and moan into each other's mouths during your horny but sweet lovemaking. So crazy for each other, so in love.

You cum with loud cries of pleasure, sobbing against Yuuji's neck as he feels your tight wet pussy clenching around him, and Yuuji is filled with so much pride and love and happiness that he can make you feel so good.

It's your whispered: "I love you, Yuuji, I love you so much. You're really the guy of my dreams, baby." that brings him over the edge.

He is moaning and mewling loudly as his hands tighten on your cute ass, and he arches up, cumming so hard and not letting go of you until he pumps your sweet pussy full with his hot ropes of cum.

His heart is racing wildly in his chest as he slowly comes down from his high, dick still throbbing inside you, your pussy pulsing around him hotly with the aftershocks of your orgasm. The two of you kiss for what feels like hours while you are still pressed tightly against Yuuji, and his cock is still deep inside you, both not wanting to part.

It's always like that, and Yuuji loves it. He loves you and loves the way you love him. He loves the way you are both so crazy for each other and both so full of love.

The thought makes him smile because he knows if he ever really directs his own rom-com, one day in the future, he will surely add a cheesy scene like that.

He looks up at you, happy and sated with a cheeky grin on his face.

"Am I really the guy of your dreams?"

And you laugh a bit shyly, slightly embarrassed by your own cheesiness, which makes Yuuji's chest feel even warmer. He caresses the naked skin of your back gently and adds:

"Because you are the girl of my dreams too. Also, you can take that literally. I dreamed about you for months!"

That makes you chuckle, and your fingers trail teasingly over his pecs when you smile at him.

"Oooh, you should tell me all about those dreams, baby. We can reenact all of them. And yes, I really meant it. You are the guy of my dreams, Yuuji. There could never be a better one for me."

An hour later, the two of you managed to get cleaned up before snuggling back into bed for another movie night. The movie in question is another rom-com, and the story is strangely similar to what you and Yuuji went through.

Yuuji smiles and tightens his arm around you, knowing that the poor protagonist will have to go through a lot until he finally gets his crush to like him back in the end.

"Keep your head up, buddy! She might not love you now, but she will! My girl needed some time too!"

That gets a reaction out of you, but not the one Yuuji expected. You pull away from his shoulder to look at him with a confused frown.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Hm? Well, you didn't like me like that at first. I thought you'd never see me as more than a friend. There was this song playing all the time, and somehow I related to it, and I guess it is right. The songs you grow to like never stick at first. But if you listen to them more often, you will find yourself singing along to them one day out of the blue, and suddenly you realize that they have taken a permanent space in your heart!"

You blink at him, mouth opening and closing as if you can't believe what you hear. Yuuji doesn't understand why you look at him that way, but it's cute, and you look so pretty in his boxing club shirt with that adorable confused expression on your face. 

One of your hands reaches out to cup Yuuji's cheek, and you look at him intently while shaking your head:

"No, Yuu, that doesn't apply to us. You are the song I loved from the first moment I listened to it! The song that became my instant fave. The one that I know by heart and that's still stuck in my brain after years. The one song I always want to listen to when I need comfort. The one song that always makes me happy. The one song I never grow tired of and still sing along to every time it comes on. The number one song on my list! That's what you always were and always will be. You are my all-time favorite song."

Yuuji's eyes widen. Now he is the one who stares at you in confusion, heart racing in his chest and tears gathering in his eyes. So that's how you saw him? He never was just a friend? How is that possible?

"But...but...what!? That's how you felt about me all this time?"

"Yes! Since day one kind of...I spent an hour with you, and I was already in so deep. You were so kind and sweet and so hot. I already had such a big crush on you after that first meeting."

"What? But what about those other people you flirted with? And what about Naoya?"

"Yuuji, I thought I didn't have a chance with you! You are so... so perfect. Everybody wants you. You are like the sun, so bright and warm and beautiful, drawing everyone in. I was happy and grateful to be your best friend and never wanted to risk losing you by telling you that I wanted more. So I tried to be with other people instead. If I had known I had a chance with you, I would have never dated Naoya. Or anyone else. It would have only been you for me."

Your voice is tender, and your eyes are shining with tears while you smile happily at Yuuji, fingers caressing his cheek lovingly. And Yuuji blinks at you, totally caught off guard as his mind tries to catch up with what you are confessing to him.

"Whoaaa what?? But that's how I've been feeling about you for a long time too! I thought you didn't want me that way, and I was scared to lose you if I told you how I felt! You're telling me that... that we liked each other like that for months now? Why didn't we get together sooner?"

"Because we are both oblivious idiots, I guess?"

Your eyes sparkle in amusement, and Yuuji bursts out laughing at the exact same moment you do. Both of you are shaking from laughter, wiping away happy tears until Yuuji wraps his arms around you and pulls you against him to press another sweet kiss to your lips.

He can feel you smile into the kiss, making his heart leap with affection. When he pulls away, he still can't stop grinning broadly.

"I'm glad we stopped being oblivious now."

"Me too. So from now on, let's just be idiots together, minus the oblivious, ok?"

You look at him with a matching amused and lovestruck expression on your face as you lift one hand in the air waiting for his answer.

And Yuuji laughs loudly and claps his large hand against yours in a hearty high five before intertwining his fingers with yours, holding hands with you and leaning closer with a broad grin:

"Deal!"

- The end. -

Yayyy Yuuji got his movie-like happy end after all! I am so happy for our sweet boy! But also a bit sad that this series is over now. This College AU was so much fun to write, and I love that the Fall Out Boy theme let me be really cheesy! I laughed so much while working on this story! I hope it could give you good vibes too!

This AU is my personal rom-com. The whole time I saw the scenes playing out like a movie before my mind's eye. I guess it fits that Yuuji studies filmmaking! I'm glad he got his own cheesy rom-com ending!!

The smut scene wasn't planned, but then I suddenly found myself writing it, and you know what? I think it's what Yuuji baby deserves. He was such a good boy throughout this whole fic! He deserves some really good sex :)

Thank you so much to everyone who stayed until the end! Your comments made me so happy and encouraged me to keep writing this story even after putting it on a break for a while. Thank you so much for the love and support! It was such a fun journey to share this story with you!

This last chapter made me so emotional and happy, and I hope you can feel all the love I felt while writing the scenes with Yuuji and reader. What they have really is my perfect relationship! I love the thought of Yuuji being the sweetest and hottest combination of best friend and boyfriend. 

Please let me know what you think about the ending and the whole story! Comments and reblogs make me happy!

Boyfriends