pretty girl
ryomen sukuna x f!reader
an: kind of suggestive? reader is super insecure + sukuna might be ooc but ??? yk. it is what it is. come get yall juice.
**part of my best friends (older brother) fic
--
when sukuna’s phone rings - for the third time, signaling that he actually has to pick up now - he definitively decides that he is going to move far, far away. maybe if he lived in shibuya, or even as far as kyoto, his stupid little brother wouldn’t call him every time he got too drunk to drive him and his idiotic friends home.
and when sukuna walks straight into the bar - blaring music, haphazard puddles of alcohol all over the floor, and the most pungent, putrid sweat smell hanging in the air - he’s almost positive that he’s going to start looking for a new apartment tomorrow.
it takes him approximately thirty-five seconds to find yuuji. though he supposed he should have noticed faster that the pink haired idiot standing on top of the bar, with a black sea urchin shaking at his legs was exactly what he was looking for.
sukuna makes his way over, shoving megumi hard in the shoulder as he looks over, eyes glazed and cheeks pink. after almost seven times of doing this, sukuna knows exactly how this is going to go. that despite the tattoos, the entirely different facial structure, and physique, megumi is going to confuse sukuna for yuuji.
“yuu’? how’d you get over there so fast?” megumi murmurs, reaching to cup the side of his face.
right again. sukuna smacks his hand out of his peripheral as he looks up at yuuji, who hasn’t even noticed that he’s arrived yet.
“move over.” he responds, irritated.
the second megumi lets go, sukuna all but shuffles yuuji off of his balance, making it a point to somewhat break his fall off of the countertop. only somewhat, because naturally he wouldn’t injure his little brother. but that doesn’t mean he’s not deserving of sometime of retribution for all the times he’s had to do this.
yuuji’s groaning in his arms as he pulls him up, as he halfheartedly makes grabby hands for fushiguro who was three feet away.
“‘gumi, cm’here.”
“we’re leaving. you can sit next to your gumi in the car.” sukuna states sternly, curling his nose at the godawful nickname, as he drags the two of them straight out into the cold air.
he’s all but opening the doors for the two of them, getting more irritated as the two of them excitedly look up at the sky, pointing at all the little stars together before he all but shoves them again.
“look yuuji. it’s us.”
“where?”
“the two stars next to each other.”
sukuna watches yuuji’s eyes go wide, cheeks bright pink, as he wraps his arms around megumi. and fights the urge to gag.
it’s only then - when he’s wrestled seatbelts onto the two of them and stopped megumi from being the affectionate drunk that he is - that they make it a point to share an important piece of information.
“kugisaki and y/n are still in there! we can’t leave.” yuuji whines, leaning his head against megumi’s as his eyes quickly start drooping, almost fluttering shut before he can ask where the two of you could possibly be.
sukuna shuffles back through the group of bodies, this time looking for the other pair of the set. it takes more effort - because he’s sure that kugisaki is going to be sucking face with someone in the back corner and he’s going to have to put an end to it. and you. you were always particularly hard to find.
he spots the red hair three feet away and takes a deep breath. she’s almost entirely sitting on the girls lap - green hair, shitty glasses - as he makes it a point to tap on her shoulder. naturally, she doesn’t stop and he gets more disgusted as it goes on. he never thought she’d be so…handsy. or that he’d have to see it.
he does the next best thing. reaches to her side and tickles her, just enough to stop her and start the godawful, obscene screaming that worsens tenfold with every consecutive pint of alcohol she drinks. and of course, she’s just as predictable as the last.
“yuuji?! where the fuck do you get off doing that?”
he reaches for her wrist, shooting a polite smile.
“maki. always a pleasure. kugisaki, we’re leaving.”
“i’m not leaving.”
maki gives him a halfhearted shrug as he all but throws her over her shoulder, tuning out the insults that are streaming out of her mouth as he all but carries her through the group of bodies. if you weren’t regulars here, sukuna was positive that he’d get arrested for that profanities coming out of her mouth - that, and the fact that it looked like he was abducting her. but no one turns a blind eye, almost irritated that she’s at it again.
that makes two of them.
when nobara’s tucked into the back, he makes it a point to throw a water bottle at each of them - specifically square in the face for yuuji and megumi who are cuddling in his backseat - as he glares at all of them.
“okay, kugisaki. where’s y/n?” sukuna asks.
she’s leaning her head back against the headrest, eyes fluttering shut, as she murmurs something unintelligible.
“she….ugly.” kugisaki murmurs.
“she’s ugly?” sukuna deadpans.
well, she’s certainly not ugly.
“ugly…bathroom.” she murmurs again, taking it as his best option.
sukuna marches back into the bar, for the third time, and beelines straight into the bathroom in the back. and there you are, crumpled up on the floor with your knees hiked to your chest, with big tears in your eyes and two girls sitting right across from you.
sukuna finds the sight rather…unusual. he knew that girls were quite different than guys, having heard you go on your spiels about womanhood and female friendship too damn often to know that it was a whole thing that was beyond him. but really, he finds it sincerely odd that the two girls sitting across from you are comforting you in your puddle of tears.
it’s not that sukuna’s stereotyping. or being judgemental. or he is a little, but he doesn’t frankly care. because labels, or groups or whatever existed for a reason. people who were similar flocked to one another. it’s how people were comfortable. how they functioned.
which is why sukuna’s unsure why these two girls - who are actually dressed up to be at the club - are sitting on the tiles with you, when you’re wearing one of those pink ribbons in your hair, that of course, matches the one on your bag.
but granted, this is you he’s talking about. he’s spent enough time trying to figure you out, before he naturally gave up. he always found that you transcended normal groups that he assigned.
you look up at him through your tearfilled eyes, a half smile on your face.
“sukuna, you-you’re here.”
sukuna ignores the fact that he’s pleased, very pleased, that you didn’t just confuse him with yuuji, as he holds his hand out to you and grabs your purse with the other one. and when you place your hand in his, you can feel the heat rushing up your body, more so when he leans down, lips few feet apart as he murmurs to you.
“we’re leaving. now.” sukuna states, glaring at you.
you feel the heat rush to your cheeks, acutely aware of every detail on his face. that his hair is slightly messy - because he must have woken up to come get you - and that his eyes are almost tired. you fight the urge to smile...at how sweet It all is.
“okay. thanks for coming to get us.” you respond, giving him a smile.
the two girls sprawled on the floor stand up, yanking their dresses down the slightest amounts as they flash you warm, kind-hearted smiles.
sukuna, really, truly does not understand it. at the way that you’re so open with them, despite the fact that they must be strangers.
“you, give him hell. and you, i’m really happy for you. i’m sure your wedding will be beautiful.” you state, pointing at the two girls who had been accompanying you on the bathroom floor for the past hour.
“and you. stop letting people call you ugly and taking it to heart. the bows are cute. your fashion is amazing. and men don’t deserve shit.” the first girl slurs.
you give her a smile, as sukuna all but tugs you out of the bathroom by the wrist, arm secured around your shoulder as he leads you through the crowd. sukuna drops his arm around you as the crowd gets thicker, hands straight on your waist as he steadies you in front of him. and when he leans down to whisper in your ear, it sends a shiver down your entire spine.
“do i even want to ask?” he sneers.
“it’s her bachelorette party! and that’s her best friend, though she seems kind of…off her rocker. but in a good way. power to her for being bold.” you respond.
sukuna rolls his eyes as he pushes you out into the cold air last, reaching for the front seat door and opening it for you. except when he looks back, you’re staring up into the sky just as yuuji and megumi were, the softest of smiles on your face.
sukuna makes a mental note of the dark, black tear streaks on your cheeks and your sniflfy nose as he clears his throat to get your attention.
“oh. sorry, i’m here. i’m here.” you respond, quickly shuffling into the car as you wipe your face.
sukuna shuts the door behind you, pausing to look up at the sky too. and silently wonders what exactly it was that you thought when you looked up at it.
--
sukuna makes it a point to take you out of the car last. because naturally, he’d save the easiest job for the end. by the time he had turned onto his street, you were snug asleep against the window of his car, creating a small indent into your forehead from the plastic of the door as he parked on the street. and he’d give you the few seconds of peace as he wrangles the rest of them out.
megumi and yuuji were easy to wrangle. because if sukuna too one out, the other one would quickly follow - and mope a great deal. megumi was on the side closer to the door, meaning he had to brace himself for the confusion once again, as he shrugged him awake.
“‘yuu. are you going to carry me to bed?” he murmurs.
“absolutely fucking not.” sukuna responds, yanking him out as yuuji follows up the stairs. he sets the two of them on the couch, a surefire way to ensure that they don’t do something heinous to his sheets during the night - or the morning after - as he braces himself for kugisaki next.
when he slings her arm around his shoulder, the obscenities start.
“maybe if you had a job or something, maybe we wouldn’t bother you so much. It-”
“i have a job, kugisaki. a job that just payed for your drinks, mind you.”
it seems that in his rusk of getting ready, yuuji had accidentally swiped his wallet on the way out. and of course, it was his turn to pay for the drinks.
“you need to get a hobby. have you thought of sewing?” she asks.
“that would be useful. then i’d have hundreds of needles to stick in your eyes.”
“when was the last time you felt the touch of a woman, sukuna?”
“when was the last time you went on a date? are the middle school makeout sessions hitting the mark for you, kugisaki?”
“shut the fuck up.” she sneers, reaching to smack him as he shoves her straight on to the guest bed and quickly shuts the door behind him.
he’s satisfied when he hears no inclination of her following, which always seems to be a gamble depending on how much she’s downed that night. or how short he cut off whatever it was she was doing with maki.
when sukuna makes it back to the car, he half debates just leaving you in there. because you look so comfortable, with his stray jacket strewn over your shoulders, and your breath that’s fogging up the glass of the mirror. but the fact that your neck is at an awkward angle and the cold air solidify his decision.
he open the door and you halfhazardly jolt awake, blinking your eyes as sukuna comes into your line of vision. you shoot him a smile as he holds his hand out to you, locking them together as he drags you up to the apartment, straight into his bedroom.
“can i use the bathroom?” you ask.
“you know where it is.” he responds, noting and particularly hating the biting tone in his voice.
“thank you!” you respond, shuffling into the room and shutting the door.
albeit weirdly, sukuna presses his ear to the door to confirm his suspicions. and the soft clinking of bottles, of the water running on and off, tells him enough.
that you’re doing your longwinded skin care routine in his bathroom. that you shoved all of your serums and moisturizers in your purse because you couldn’t skip out on it for even one day.
he’d make it a point. to slam the door open and make fun of you for it. but he bites down any retort he has when he hears soft sniffling and pushes the door open for an entirely different reason.
“what the hell is your problem?” he asks.
“huh?”
“you and your friends get obscenely drunk. then, you call me in the middle of the night and wake me up. and right when i’m about to go to bed, you’re crying in my bathroom. so what the hell is it? just tell me.”
you sniffle.
“do you really want to know?” you whisper.
“you’re wasting more of time with your shitty attitude. i’m not going to stand here and coax it out of you, so just tell me straight up or stop crying.”
you sigh.
“if you put lipstick on a pig, it’s still a pig.”
sukuna wants to smack you. of course you feel the need to talk in tongues.
“in english this time?” he asks.
“you can try to look nice as much as you want. but even all that…makeup…fancy skincare. it can’t change the fact that i just look like this. that if you put lipstick on a pig, it’s still a pig.” you state.
“you think you’re a pig?” sukuna asks.
you sigh.
“maybe.” you murmur.
sukuna tosses you the extra set of clothes he dragged out, tossing them straight at you as you send him a grateful smile.
“thanks, sukuna.” you murmur.
“for what?”
he could barely even muster a response, a coherent one that you deserved, in response to what you shared with him.
“dunno. i tell other people and they just kind of go…but you’re so pretty!! and…it falls flat. it’s nice to not be coddled. just said things as they are.”
sukuna can feel a burning feeling in his chest that increases tenfold when you press a kiss into the softness of his cheek. and he stands there dumbfounded, watching you smile and make a move to walk away. he instinctively reaches for your bicep and pulls back, a sweet smell emanating from whatever you’ve just smeared on your face, as he looks down at your lips.
there’s some type of glitter on them. whatever you’ve just put on makes them look bigger, fuller. he wonders if some trace of it is left on his cheek.
“did you need something?” you ask.
“sleep in my bed.”
“huh?”
“i’ll take the couch. get in the bed.” he utters.
the following morning, sukuna wakes up to three plates of breakfast with an annoying sticky note pressed on top.
thanks for coming to get us sukuna!!! :DD
it’s the first time the thought crosses his mind. that his preconceived notion might be incorrect.
that it’s not that you’re too good for him. it’s that everyone else isn’t good enough for you.
--
the next time you see sukuna is when you’re teetering past tipsy to fully drunk in your childhood bedroom, on christmas eve. well, he’s not exactly inside the room, more knocking on the door frame.
you gesture for him to come in, setting the wine bottle down, as he takes the seat next to you.
“where’s yuuji?” you ask.
“still at megumi’s.”
sukuna loosens the tie around his neck and unbuttons the top three buttons of his collared shirt, as he slides closer to you. you've never been one to shy from his touch, settling into his embrace, as he racks his mind, desperately, on how to broach the topic, that’s been on his mind for weeks.
sukuna slides his arm around your shoulder to your nightstand, to a little bundle of dried flowers. he opts to leave his hand pulled around you, as he pulls it closer to the two of your faces, resting his temple against yours.
“what’s this?”
“it’s my corsage from prom. like sixty years ago.”
“who did you go with?” sukuna asks.
“no one. i never got asked. i just bought one because…you know how all the girls line up in a row and stick their hands out to show their corsage off? i didn’t want to be left out of that picture.” you state.
“so you ordered it yourself?”
“mhm. pink flowers, white bow. it matched my dress.” you hum.
“always the bows huh?”
sukuna sets the corsage down in your lap, as he leans closer into your space and digs into his pocket. you can smell his cologne, strong and musky in your space, as it mixes with your own flowery perfume and gives your head a slight rush.
he pulls out his keys and sets them flat in the palm of your hand, as you inspect each little accessory on his ring. there’s two keys - one for his apartment and one for his house - and two keychains. one of him as a lego, which you know yuuji bought him for his birthday, and another one from alaska, that you and yuuji had bought him on your school trip in eighth grade.
but the third is a ribbon, secured right on the ring of his keychain. you inspect it between your fingers, and he supplies the answer before you can ask.
“you left it at my house.” he states.
“so…so you put it on your keys?”
“wanted to make sure it was on me. in case i saw you.”
you make a move to pull it off the ring, but he closes his hand over yours.
“it’s mine now.” he states.
“then why did you show it to me?” you whispers.
sukuna’s not sure what it is that drives him to do it, merely the fact that he has no patience and surely no self control, but he hooks his hand straight under your thigh, securing you straight on his lap. you can feel your breath hitch in your throat as he leans his forehead straight against yours, his hands on your thighs burning your skin.
“what are you doing? yu-yuuji will eventually get here you know.” you whisper.
“do you like him?” sukuna asks.
“what? no-no, he’s with megumi. and he’s gay.” you whisper.
“so why are you thinking about him when you’re here with me?”
“i-i’m not. you just-”
sukuna swallows hard, taking a deep inhale of your smell, before he slithers one of his hands around your neck and pulls you closer. he can feel you fidget in his lap, nearly knocking over half the things behind you as you twitch in his lap and he murmurs into your skin.
“relax.”
you take a deep breath, grounding yourself by digging your hands into the muscle of his arms.
“okay. you-”
“the guy at the bar. what did he say to you?” he whispers.
“which guy?”
“when i picked you up last. when you slept in my bed.”
you feel your cheeks burn in embarrassment.
“nothing. he-”
sukuna’s squeezing into the plush of your thighs, his hands firm and warm as you fight the urge to yelp.
“tell me what he said.”
“nothing, sukuna. i didn’t want to kiss him yet. and he leaned in. got-got offended. just said some things before he walked away.” you mumble.
“things like?”
“like you know. the usual stuff.”
“that you’re ugly?” he asks.
it's almost embarrassing, but his look is so unrelenting that you have to give in. you nod, as sukuna takes his hands off of your legs, bringing them up to cup the side of your face this time. he snakes one of his hands into your hair, yanking the bow out as he curls it in his hand.
“do you believe him?” he asks.
“no.” you respond.
sukuna leans closer, his lips brushing against yours as you instinctively shut your eyes. that it burns too much to look at him.
“are you lying to me?”
“n-no.” you mumble back, as you try to lean in but feel sukuna pull back.
when you open your eyes, you can’t but pout as he smiles at you, as he grins at you after pulling away.
“don’t be a tease, sukuna.”
he laughs into your neck, before the warmth blooms on your neck as his lips connect to your skin, as he leaves a trail of warm kisses up the side of your neck. each new spot he touches has you nearly melting in his touch, as he can feel you slouching onto him, leaning your entire body weight against his.
he continues that way, refusing to kiss you full on the mouth, as you feel your skin bloom warmth with every new place that he touches. each of your cheeks, the tip of your nose, even your eyelids that you’ve fluttered shut this entire time. some part of it is agonizing, that he continues to give but won’t receive in return.
you take his collar into your hands, crumpling the fabric as you yank him straight and feel him smile against your lips.
“needy?”
“please. i want to-”
sukuna cuts you off before you can finish your request, the first inclination of your begging snapping the very little patience he had in the first place. your lips are soft and warm against his, as you surely spread that glittery nonsense over him, over his neck as you start peppering kisses over him. from how shy and awkward he’s seen you, he swallows down the surprise at how eager you are, at the way you’re basically pawing at him through his shirt.
except you pull back, wide eyed, when the two of you hear pounding up the step, accompanied by two voices getting louder in your ears.
“y/n!!! y/n, y/n merry christmas!!!” yuuji bellows, as you shove sukuna onto the floor and sit upright as he pads into the room and wraps you in a hug.
sukuna wipes his lips with the back of his hand as he stands up, giving megumi a nod, as yuuji turns to him and shakes hands. sukuna can’t help but smile at how pink your cheeks are, swollen lips and glazed eyes, as megumi and yuuji settle into both of your sides, arms wrapped around you.
you swallow hard as you look at sukuna, wide eyed as you noticed all the lipgloss that you left over him. and pale when megumi notices the big red mark on his neck.
“is that a rookie mark, sukuna?”
sukuna brings his hand up to his neck, only to be met back with the glitter on his fingers as he smiles - or more appropriately, grins at you - as you feel your cheeks go pink.
“who gave you that sukuna? your neighbor?” yuuji asks.
you feel your eyes go wide, as sukuna pinches his eyes at yours before responding.
“no. i haven’t talked to her in a while.”
you tuck away the detail, making sure to ask him about it later. it’s only now that sukuna’s reputation comes to the forefront of your mind, as you realize you might have made a grave mistake by letting sukuna indulge in whatever infatuation it is he’s having with you.
“yuuji. did you say hello to y/n’s sister?” he asks.
“she’s back in town?” he asks, turning to you.
“mhm. got back in today.” you murmur, as the two of them shoot you a smile and shuffle back into your room.
sukuna lifts you up by your wrists, as he starts fixing your appearance little by little. you can feel him zipping up the back of your dress - entirely unsure when he even had the time to do that - as he snags the little bow from his pocket and smooths it back into your hair.
“whose your neighbor?”
“jealous, princess?” he asks.
you turn around, poking one of your hands into the muscle of his chest.
“sukuna. i am not going to be one of your little lack-”
“you are not a lackey.” he whispers.
you pout at him, entirely disbelieving, as he wraps his hands around your face, the kiss sweeter, softer than the ones the two of you had just shared on the bed.
“you’d kill me if you did that.” you murmur.
“you think i relish in your pain?” he asks.
“dunno. you-”
he leans your head up again, tucking his head into the softness of your neck as he starts peppering kisses you again. your hands are a futile attempt to stop him, as he laughs into your skin.
“i’m here to make you feel good. i’ve been thinking about it for weeks.”
“oh?”
“let me. you- you’ve always been my pretty girl. and no one can make you feel good, treat you like you should, better than me.”
you push him off again as megumi and yuuji come back, with your sister in tow, as they gesture for you to join them downstairs. and sukuna follows behind, as you fight the urge to beam, when he secures his hand into yours behind their backs.
--
next part linked here
an: do NAWT ask for a part 2 bc I will do it. my brain is steaming. I am thinking thoughts.
taglist: @porridgesblog @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @luna0713hunter @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @gojoswifeyyys-world @cutiejg @chilichopsticks
just chillin
So pissed bc I re wrote and edited this roommate sero blurb but my building wifi is FUKED so it didn’t save. Yay!
CIGARETTES AFTER TEXTS
think i like you best when you're just with me, and no one else.
to him, she was the equivalent of hearing your favourite song for the first time, memorising the lyrics, mesmerised by the melody and instruments that you forget what you were doing in the first place. to her, he was a hardcore fan who had wayyy too many band t-shirts. such different lives, yet fate brought them together after maki scored a hot girls number.
pairing: megumi x f!rockstar!reader
status: ongoing!
tags: megumi is a fan, megumi wears band tees religiously, yn is a guitarist and a singer, yn is a year older than megumi, swearing!!, toge slander, yn and yuta are co-parenting maki and toge, megumi nobara and yuji are huge fans, megumi the most obv, crack, fluff, smau
taglist: open!
INTRODUCTIONS: solitaire | the big three
CLOSETS: yn's closet
PLAYLISTS: solitaires discography
MOODBOARDS: solitaire | yn | megumi
chapter one: historians will call them friends
chapter two:
chapter three:
sero with a sleeve tattoo of random asss things live in my head rent free
old brush with the band kids!
Yohoo! Hi <3
Ur so sweet ya know? I’ve just started following ur blog and have already fallen in love with your stuff. It’s too much for my heart to take😰💘
Ur recent post of sero hcs just blew my mind, and It was one of the best things I’ve ever read in a while >\\\< thank you so much for your existence in this world :) hehe
You’ve made my night, now I will be able to sleep in peace
One last thing! I have a final exam tomorrow so wish me luck....please?🙏🏻
OMG WHQTTT THANK U SO MUCH U JUST MADE MY NIGHT !!! i'm so glad you like my stuff even tho i haven't been writing for very long at ALL!! but good luck on exams tomorrow hun !! i have my first one wednesday 😷
thinking abt band member sero falling for the daughter of their recently signed major music executive.
notes: hanamaki takahiro x fem!reader (2.4k words)
warnings: insecure makki, talk of having children, suggestive
heavily influenced by favourite t-shirt - jake scott this song has had a chokehold on me forever
masterlist
there wasn’t an ounce of his attention on the film. he’s only looking at the screen but the thoughts in his head are elsewhere: you’re close enough to him to distract him from the action movie he picked out twenty minutes ago.
even after seeing you for a few months now, he still couldn’t believe you were his. of all the thoughts running through his mind its the one that’s making him question what he did to deserve you that’s running fastest.
what did he do to make you, the former manager of the aoba johsai volleyball club, change your opinion on him? what did he do that made you start to look at him like you do now? what did he do right to deserve the place by your side when he knows you’re loved by anyone and everyone?
he might not know what he’s done to deserve this but he’s making the most of every second he’s got you there. he doesn’t know if or when this will end.
you’re so invested in the film you don’t even realise you lean against him the way you do. he’s tense for a second; it’s not the first time you’ve been close to him like this. there have been more private moments shared but there’s something even more intimate about it this time.
his arm moves around your shoulder, pulling you as close to him as you can be. you only notice for a second, glancing up at him with a smile that has his mind whirling with even more with thoughts he wished would go away.
it’s too soon for what he thinks next.
the words are on the tip of his tongue, threatening to spill out before he can fully think them through. with just that little smile; one that lasted maybe a second before you were looking at the tv screen again, he knows you’re the woman for him.
he’s fallen hard and fast. in four simple months, he’s discovered so much about himself: he’s hopelessly in love with you.
he wants to say it. to shout it from the rooftops in fact, but he doesn’t know if you’re ready to hear that or if you even want to hear that from him. why would you, the girl of his dreams, want him when he can’t even keep a job?
it’s almost as if you can sense the worry from beside you, your hand coming to take hold of his in a simple, comforting grasp. you’re looking up to him again, the light of the screen reflecting the colour of your eyes beautifully.
the thoughts are back and he’s fighting with his own mind in fear he’ll ruin everything with three little words.
even as you stand from the couch, coming back to sit on his lap comfortably with a leg on either side of his torso. he almost stops breathing as your hands come to his shoulders and a sweet, innocent, sultry smile sits on your face. you’re one move away from him telling you everything in his mind that’s screaming he wants you.
you only kiss him once, much to his dismay. it’s not short; it’s not long but it’s enough to have his heart pounding in his chest as your hands wander from his broad shoulders to his chest and he’s praying you can’t feel how nervous he’s got with such a simple thing.
after everything you’ve done together, he shouldn’t be so easily riled up but he can’t control it.
you kiss his cheek. you kiss his jaw. you kiss his neck.
with every peck on his skin, his heart is hammering in his chest and his hands squeeze your waist in an attempt to calm himself down.
he could laugh at himself with the way he was acting; he could hear mattsun’s mockery at the idea a woman was making him this nervous. he would be the subject of every joke for a month; he’d tell all of their friends.
or they’d think he was playing some sort of joke.
they could hardly believe he was even in a relationship: he hadn’t been able to keep on longer than a week for some time now and matsukawa loved to remind it of him constantly. even if the two of you had been dating for months now, he was convinced you would end it eventually, if hanamaki didn’t.
he’s brought back to reality when you’re hands sneak down his abdomen and he flinches when your cold fingers touched his bare skin. his breathing hitches as your hands push further up, his shirt bundling up as you pull back and look at him.
he’s a mess below you with a blush painting his face and his hands barely secure on your waist. he’s certain if he moves them it’ll be even more obvious how nervous he’s gotten.
looking at your face he feels his nerves even more; his breathing now speeding up he’s watching the way your lips curve into a smile. you’re leaning down again with your mocking smile still sitting on your face, kissing him rougher than before.
his arms snake around your waist again, pulling you as close as possible as his lips moved in synch with yours. by the time you’re pulling away you’re giggling at the way he’s panting. he can’t say anything; he’s not got the breath to do anything.
the way you’re looking at him with your lipstick smeared around your lips reminds him of the first time the two of you were in this position sat in the back of his car with a blanket wrapped around you.
that time your hands were more focused on other things that left him breathless but it’s almost the exact same situation as he’s in right now with you just barely grazing his lips with your own; leaving him yearning for more.
that memory is enough to spur him on at the moment, his arms keeping hold of you securely as he stood. your legs wrap around his waist tightly as you squeal with a laugh. he’s kissing you now; he’s decided it’s his turn to take the initiative.
waking up the next morning, he can’t feel your warmth like he expected. instead, the covers are pulled back on the side of the bed you fell asleep on; your clothes are still scattered around his room; he knows you’re still in the house but he’d much rather wake up to you in his arms.
however, you opening his door while towel drying the ends of your hair is enough of a sight for him to stop caring that he’s alone in bed. especially when you’re wearing the dumb shirt he loves with the crappy sexual innuendo scribbled across your chest.
it’s covering the tops of your legs but, when you’re reaching up in a stretch it rises up enough for him to see the marks he left on your thigh the night before. smirking to himself, he averts his eyes before you can say anything.
you walk to the side of the bed, leaning down to kiss him only to be grabbed and pulled onto the bed; he rolls over so you’re trapped under his body unable to move. “hiro.” you giggle, your arms around his neck as you hold him tight against you–you may joke and complain about his recent clinginess but you’re just the same.
he hopes you can’t feel his heart hammering in his chest against you when you kiss the top of his head. he could fall asleep against you like that until the offer of you cooking breakfast comes up. as much as he would love to stay in bed with you all day the idea of you in an apron is just as appealing.
you're bouncing down the stairs, leaving makki in bed lying on his back as he realised he wasn’t just in love with you. there was something more there; you were his everything.
he’s following you shortly afterwards, his heart skipping a beat once more when you’re in his sight standing in front of his stove. he’s behind you in an instant, hands coming around your waist and holding you close.
it’s a sight he’d pay to see again. maybe every morning. maybe, when you’ve grown together, he can have your children on his hip while you look like this to give you a break from the constant screaming and crying of the newborn, or you’ll be holding your son while he’s cooking a meal.
he’s found a solid job by then.
you turn in his grip, unaware of the hypothetical plans he’s making in his head, and stare up at him with doe-like eyes and a smile on your face. your hands stroke up his arms; resting your arms on his shoulders you’re on your tiptoes to give him a soft kiss.
he pulls you in closer when you try to pull back; kissing you harder not caring that the food might be burning. in fact, with his hand roaming your body just like they were the night before, you’re switching everything off and enjoying the moment with him.
the food can always be reheated.
it’s stupid how giddy he feels when you’re near him; it’s crazy how his skin is covered in goosebumps at the lingering touches you leave on him. just a tiny scrape of your fingertips on him is enough to drive him insane; he loves every second of it.
you’re back in the shower after the breakfast interruption and makki finds himself in need of advice; there’s only one person he thinks of contacting. he’s quick to explain it all and iwaizumi lets out a small chuckle at the thought of his nonchalant friend struggling with his own feelings.
“just tell her.” is all he can say but makki’s not ready to say it yet.
you’re back in his shirt when you’re out of the shower, instead this time you’d opted for a pair of legging to go underneath and you’re climbing back into bed beside where he’s sat. you’re tired again and in need of a small nap before you head home for the day.
you don’t want to though if it wasn’t for the afternoon shift you were scheduled in for he would be trying to keep you there beside him.
you’re groggy when you wake up. wiping your eyes and moving so your head is in his lap. you’re immediately distracting him from the video playing on his phone. “morning.” he jokes, his free hand coming to stroke through your hair. you smile up at him, returning the greeting before you’re lifting yourself up.
it’s almost time for you to leave. in fact, it’s already too late for you to do everything you usually would before work.
“i’ll drive you.” he’s saying, throwing a jacket over his clothes whilst you pick up the few pieces still scattered. you smile thanks to him; grabbing one of his jackets over the t-shirt you’ve forgotten you’re wearing.
he grins when he follows you out; he’s glad you’ve forgotten it's his clothes you’re wearing because that means he’ll be seeing you again very soon when you realise you need to return it.
you’re chatting away to him happily as he drives you to your building, dreading the moment you walked away the entire time. but you’re in a rush now and you’re jumping out of the car the moment it’s parked, running over to the driver’s side and smiling at him as he lowered his window.
“i’ll call you later.” you assure him with a smile kissing him through the window one more time before you’re running inside.
and hanamaki is left with his thoughts once more as he watches you; making sure he doesn’t even think about leaving until he sees you turn, wave and safely enter your building.
his head falls forward, resting on the back of his hands gripping the top of the steering wheel as he lets out a sigh–he’ll blurt it out the next time he sees you for sure.
he’s reaching the point of desperation when he calls oikawa tooru through the bluetooth of his car, the man complaining about a wake-up call the second he picks ups, reminding makki of the time difference, but he’s also concerned as to why his friend is calling at this time (for him).
he doesn’t explain much: the full story isn’t needed but what is needed is advice. advice from someone who won’t relentlessly tease or laugh off his worry as something that wasn’t a big deal.
makki loved his friends; how could he not after this many years of them being stuck in his life? but, of all of them, he knew the only one that would be brutally honest with him was oikawa, especially when he’s slightly agitated from being woken up with a sudden call.
oikawa’s silent as makki finishes filling him in and makki’s growing more nervous as he waits for the man, that’s had much more like with the ladies, to give him a needed piece of advice.
“are you an idiot!” oikawa’s fully awake now. there’s no way he couldn’t be with the stupidity he was hearing from his long term friend. he’s completely amazed with the thought that you’re probably in the exact same boat as your boyfriend but neither of you thinks the other feels the same (had oikawa kept in touch with you too he’d be phoning you in seconds to subtly spill the beans) and now you’re tiptoeing away from happiness.
makki doesn’t know how to respond, choosing silence instead as oikawa groans and finally gives his advice.
“tell her.” he pauses like that’s all he has to say when he’s trying to find the words that will go through makki’s, apparently, thick head. “she’s seen you date people, yeah you’re relationship's lasted longer than usual this time, but she won’t think that it’s because you love her.” frustrated with his friend, and wanting to go back to sleep, he hangs up after one more piece of guidance and a mumbled goodbye.
“if you love her, you love her. time has nothing to do with this. you’ve known her for years anyway; you won’t lose her that easily.”
makki sighs to himself as he hears the tone signalling the end of the call and, for once in his life, he’s agreeing with oikawa. who cares if he’s moving quickly, he loves you and what’s the point of that if he can’t even show you?
so, when you finally remember to return his favourite t-shirt and his jacket, he’s ready to tell you everything.
you beat him to the punch, however. nervously stammering out the three words he was once scared of; praying he feels the same and, if the bright smile on his face wasn’t obvious enough, he does.