Megumi kisses you for the first time on Valentine's Day. It's a simple thing really, a gentle maneuver so swift you don't have time to question it.
The TV screen flashes with each change in angle, painting your apartment's living room with the vivid tones of cinema. The soundtrack booms against your ears— or as much as it can, coming from those tiny speakers.
Your just-as-single-and-lonely partner for today has been awfully quiet tonight, considering he picked this year's movie. You glance at Megumi, expecting to see him slouched and half asleep like usual, only to find long lashes and pretty green eyes already staring back at you. He seems surprised, caught in the act or whatever you want to say, but he doesn't shy away.
He's thinking— you can tell by the look on his face. His brows furrow and he bites at his lip. "What are yo–"
Oh.
His lips taste like strawberry soda, syrupy sweet in all the best ways. A calloused palm cups your cheek, gently coaxing you further into him. Before you can breathe, before you can blink, he pulls away, tongue darting out to savor the lingering taste of you.
He's thinking again, because he's staring at you again, and you hope to God he's wants to kiss you a second time. You'd do it yourself if you weren't so stunned, heart jackhammering out of your chest as you try to process what he just did.
There’s a pretty blush blooming across his cheeks, the tips of his ears most definitely hot to the touch. He goes to speak, lips parting on an inhale, but decides against it, opting to push back a stray hair from your forehead.
He doesn't kiss you again, and he doesn't say anything about it either. He just turns back to the TV, trying his hardest not to let his breath catch in his throat. He puts on a passive face, but underneath the mask, you know Megumi is nervous. Oh-so nervous that in trying to control his breathing, he forgets to stop the tremor in his hands. Lithe fingers toy with themselves in his lap, cracking knuckles that don't need to pop and wiping his palms on gray sweatpants.
It's your turn to stare at him, to wonder if you can ask all the questions racing through your head, like what the hell that was for and what he meant by it.
An explosion on the screen steals your attention for a split second, and when you turn back to the boy who just kissed you— the boy who is nervously fidgeting on your couch after the fact, you can't help the soft smile that tugs on corners of your mouth.
You don't say a word. Instead, you lean into his side, resting your head on his shoulder and pretending not to notice the tension leave his body.
Valentine's Day was always fun with Megumi, but this year feels a little extra special. Perhaps there was some extra love floating around just for the two of you.
💌 — :0 whaaa?! a letter?
i hope you enjoy this little drabble for the cutest holiday in the world. inspiration struck when i was daydreaming about my stupid bf, and i couldn't resist writing about him. also, i wrote this incredibly fast, so i'm sorry for the quality/any mistakes lol. happy valentine's day to all the lovely people in my computer screen. xoxo, somi <3
“what’s it like?”
oikawa turns to you at the sound of your question, “what’s what like?”
“what’s it like being in love?”
the boy quirks a brow, “what do you mean?”
“i mean,” you pause, shuffling from your place on the couch to face him. “what’s it like to give your all to a person? to have someone that loves you with all their being? what’s it like to have a bond and a connection that seems as if it would never break? or to have a person who’s poured their heart and soul into you? who would do anything to see you happy and make you feel loved?” you pause, meeting the boy’s gaze realizing you’ve been basically asking him the same question for the past three minutes. “i mean if you know about it, i know you’ve had your fair share of relationships.”
he bit back a chuckle at how small your voice became, “that’s a tough question for me to answer.”
“but you’re more experienced than i am with it,” you reason.
“why because i’ve been in more relationships?”
”no because of the fangirls.”
and he laughs, “that’s adoration,” he notes. “adoration and love, while easily confused, are two different things.”
”alright then,” you wave off. “then tell me,” his gaze softens as he shuffles to face you. “what’s love like?”
“it’s,” he pauses, “it’s a feeling that you can’t really find anywhere else.”
“what do you mean?”
there’s a hint of curiosity in your voice, something that makes oikawa smile. contrary to you, his long time best friend, oikawa’s been in his fair share of relationships. some were long, others short flings, some serious ones, and then others that left just as fast as they came. he had watched you for years pine over other people wishing like the hopeless romantic that you are that you’d finally get your chance in love. he pauses for a moment before looking back at you. “do you know that moment where you have a puzzle and there’s only one piece missing?”
“okay,” you nod.
“and it turns out the puzzle piece fell on the floor, so you pick it up and then complete the puzzle.”
your brows knit in confusion, “that’s an odd scenario to compare love to.”
Keep reading
cw: gojo's past arc spoilers, implied sex, suggestive, kissing
when gojo awoke, he noticed four highly unusual things.
one, his bed was missing its usual coldness. the one he has gotten used to waking up to ever since… he was born?
which is weird, because he never bought any sort of electric bed warmers nor was it summer.
two, he had no nightmares. no images of his best friend's back turned to him as he slowly blends into the crowd, no images of a dead amanai riko lying limply in his arms, no images of fushiguro toji stabbing him on his throat, and no images of the three of them blaming and shouting at the man for their own fates.
which is rare, because every night either one or all of them would visit gojo. he even had the habit of taking his guesses on who's appearing in his dreams due to how frequent they happen.
three, he feels happy. like really, sincerely happy. not like the mask of joyfulness he shows his students; unlike the facade he had gotten all too used to presenting people.
which is rare, because gojo satoru has never felt true happiness ever since geto suguru's defection.
four, there's something warm and soft enclosing his whole body. as if he suddenly acquired a life-sized teddy bear he's now snuggling with.
but no, he never bought any sort of stuffed toy and what he was feeling was something way better than some big plushie.
(because teddy bears don't radiate warmth that feels as homely, as comforting, nor as peaceful as the sorcerer senses to the point that he never wanted to let go.)
so despite his body and mind's unceasing protests, gojo satoru slowly but surely opened his eyes to inspect why the hell there were suddenly so many changes on his usual mornings.
it was you.
an ethereal being quiescently sleeping with your cheek squished on his toned pectoral littered with red and purple marks, your marks, drool dripping down your mouth, tangled and messy hair sticking to your face, arms tightly wrapped around his naked torso as if you too would never want this moment to end.
ah. that explains why i slept so well.
gojo raises the duvet up to your shoulder before lifting his right hand and brushing your hair out of your face, wanting to see for the first time what you look like when you sleep and god. it's the only sight he would ever want to see over and over again and again for the rest of his mornings.
memories of the night prior came flooding back into his mind, filling his entire being with more and more tenderness as he remembers how your bodies perfectly molded and joined into singularity mere hours ago, as if you two were puzzle pieces who found their way towards each other despite being lost wandering somewhere around the vast and endless universe.
gojo tightened his left arm on your bare waist, his desire to be closer to you and to feel you even further starting to overtake his senses.
that is until you stirred, opened your eyes, and roamed your pupils on your surroundings before settling into his own sapphire irises. your forehead scrunched upon recognizing the man, as if you were wondering how you ended up in your current position.
you're frowning and groggy and disoriented so why are you still so gorgeous?
"g'morning, drooling beauty. someone had a great sleep, huh?" he teases as a greeting, making you frown even more as you attempt to remove your arms from his body.
whining, gojo's hands instantly flew to yours as he pressed his weight down onto the mattress, "nooo. let's stay like this."
at that, you smirked and rested your chin on his sternum before opening your mouth, "heh. someone wants to cuddle, huh?" your tone was condescending yet you still held him tighter than before, upper body fully pressed on his and arms underneath him as you lean closer to press your lips on his jaw.
(oh how he loves your morning voice; the only sound he wants to hear as soon as he wakes up.)
satoru smiled before muttering ‘just stay with me,’ pressing his lips that have said far too many words and brushed all over your figure last night on the top of your head as he basks in your presence.
it’s pretty ironic. how infinity, his most prized technique, is meant for gojo satoru to be untouchable, to serve as a barrier—a physical boundary he learned to automatically activate in order to keep himself from any injury, from any type of harm, from any kind of pain.
yet all he wants whenever he’s with you is to turn all those barriers off and to shove them away on the deepest part of his being, never to emerge again. he just wants to hold you close until the edge of the universe stops expanding and starts receding, until only the two of you are left in a small space slowly getting swallowed by complete darkness.
only then will he activate his infinity and shield the both of you against the collapsing cosmos.
“...fast? gojo? are you listening?”
your muffled voice brought the naked man back to reality, and he feels you attempting to raise your head from its place on his neck (probably to look at him) but fails as he pushes the body part back with his chin. "yes, yes, i'm listening. you were saying something about how we finished fast, right? you can just say you wanna go for another, ya know? i won't mind~"
you let out an ugh and he swears he can hear your eyes roll within your response, "no, you idiot. i was asking what you wanted for breakfast. were you dozing off?"
he responds only to your former question, completely ignoring the latter. "breakfast, huh? let me think."
for gojo, breakfast normally meant going to some shop near wherever he currently is and eating a slice of cake alone. he couldn’t even remember the last time he had a home cooked meal and although he’d stop at nothing to taste your cooking (even if it’s dirt), he has been thinking of another meal ever since he realized woke up with you.
smirking, the white-haired man twisted his body before flipping the both of you and hovered over your form despite your halfhearted protests. you were looking incredulously at him, left eyebrow raised and forehead scrunched as he slowly leans in to plant a chaste kiss on your nose.
“you were asking what i wanted for breakfast, right? welp, i want you.”
however, the thought of you standing in his kitchen, in front of his stove, possibly wearing his shirt that would be way too huge for your figure and making him breakfast while his body encloses yours from behind, the combined smell of miso soup and your neck permeating his senses sits at the back of his mind while he kisses you silly.
so gojo satoru, the ever unpredictable man, halts the onslaught of his love on your face and pulls back, perching both of his hands on either side of your shoulder as he continues hovering over you and watching you catch your breath.
“i changed my mind. cook me breakfast now~” he beamed before getting off the bed and grabbing his shirt on the floor, leaving you dumbfounded as you allow him to lift you off the mattress and carry you bridal style out of the door.
you sighed exasperately.
what a bizarre man you fell in love with.
navi
i just love him a lot TT
"𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐃𝐢𝐝 𝐘𝗼𝐮 𝐒𝐚𝐲?"
⤷ atsumu x reader | mutual pining | 0.9k words |
“Atsumu!” You call out his name, hitting your fist against the door. “Are you here?”
It's a little late; the hallway is brightly lit, and you look up at the overhead lights, blinking and wondering if you shouldn’t have come here on such a whim. Thinking about it, you probably should have at least texted him you were coming — he might not even be here, but you were too much in a rush.
Sighing, you raise your fist again, “Atsu-”
The door flies open and your hand cuts through air instead of the solid surface. Standing there in the doorway is Atsumu, clad in a pair of black sweatpants and a loosely fitting black t-shirt to match. He’s holding onto the handle with one hand, the other resting against the side of the frame, his pink lips stretching into a sly smile. Your stomach flips a little bit. “Hey.”
“Hi.” You wring your hands together, “Um.”
He raises an eyebrow, waiting for you to continue and chuckling when you don’t. He opens the door wider. “C’mon,” he says, motioning his head inside his room. You stare at his back as you follow him in, taking in his broad shoulders and admiring the way his muscles ripple inside his shirt before closing your eyes and shaking your head. He’s not yours to look at.
Focusing instead on the room, you take note of how both sides are equally as dysfunctional. Not messy, just…crowded. “Where’s Osamu?”
He settles onto his bed, unmade, legs spread, and pushes his laptop to the side. “With Rin.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
You rock on your heels as your gaze slides all around the room, purposely avoiding his. “So…”
“So?” He tilts his head in that cute way he always does when he finally catches your eye, smiling teasingly. “I’m not complainin’ about ya bein’ here, but you look like you have something ya wanna say.”
He’s right. A wave of fervor pours over you, and you nod your head in determination to do what you came here for, pushing the creeping feeling of dejection far from your mind. “I need some answers.”
“Uh, huh.” His mouth twists in confusion. “Ta what, exactly?”
“To how long it’s going to be.” Your legs take you around the small space, pacing back and forth as you clench and unclench your fists.
“Right…” He trails off. “I’m a little lost here, sweetheart.”
You think you might melt with the affectionate name, but you brush over it. He’s just like that. “How long it’s going to be until you ask out this person you like so much.”
He suddenly tenses, back straightening and thick eyebrows furrowing. “Oh.” Brown eyes track your movement. “I’m not, uh, sure I can answer that?”
You shake your head. You think back to the conversation you guys had a few days ago, where he told you all about this person that he’s interested in. You remember him using words like so pretty, so amazing. A flush on his cheeks as he told you about why he likes them so much. Refusing to tell you who the person was, so maybe you could try to understand why it wasn’t you.
But it’s exactly that, it’s not you. But it hurts every single time you think about it.
So that’s why you ended up here, late at night, a fire in your heart. If the person Atsumu likes isn’t you, you could at least push him to go out with them. You wouldn’t be left to hopelessly pine over him, and could instead get over it as you watched him with someone else, even if it would kill you. Save yourself before you get too invested, right?
“Why not? The sooner the better. Aren’t you the one who told me that we have to go for the things we want?”
Atsumu pushes himself off the bed, long legs striding to you and big hands holding your arms to stop you from moving around. He looks very confused now. “I was?”
You ignore him. “Well then, it’s time to do something.” You make sure to look right into his eyes. “If you like them so much, there’s only one thing to do.”
The grip on your arms tighten, and you shift your hands up to hold on to his elbows. His eyes widen, and you watch as different emotions pass through his face before an excited grin grows. He studies you, “How long have ya felt this way?”
“Since you told me.” You try to match his smile, despite the way your chest sinks. “Be brave, Atsumu. I know you are.”
“Yeah.” he nods, eagerly, bleached hair following the jerks of his head. “Yeah, okay.”
Your gaze drops to the floor. “Great…” Great.
At least one of you guys will get to be with who they want to. You just wish he wanted you.
You try to leave his hold, but his hands just squeeze your arms, your name falling from his lips in a soft breath.
He gives you that smile, not the confident volleyball player one, but the one that you catch him with when he’s petting a puppy, or when he’s talking to his mother on the phone and he thinks no one is looking. The one that’s reserved for soft moments, and your heart constricts. But it’s not prepared for what comes out of his mouth next.
“Will ya go out with me?”
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Retake classes you hated but now there’s zero stakes:
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If you're not on Twitter following the fake Twitter Blue accounts drama... I'd say i feel bad for you but I'm providing you with the best screenshots here so you don't have to feel left out
tw: cheating accusation
“Are you fucking her?”
Katsuki stands. With a slow, deliberate movement, he places both hands on the table and leans forward, those vermilion eyes finding yours in an unblinking stare.
“You wanna repeat that?” his lip arches in disgust, “Because I’m pretty sure I misheard you.”
Your heart beat buzzes across your skin. Anxiety eats at you, but the anger and pain pushes you forward. “Are you fucking her?"
Bakugo doesn’t move, but the vein on his jaw grows more defined as he grinds his teeth together. "Why would you ask me that?”
“You’re not saying no.”
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Nike Air Force 1 Low “Valentine’s Day” (2023)
incredibly scattered poster || 22 || call me ixy
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