𝑨𝒓á𝒏𝒅𝒂𝒏𝒐 🫐

whilst yuuji works on your pool, all glistening golden muscles and sweet smiles — you sunbathe on the opposite side. wearing a new bikini or one piece in a new colour because he always finds a way to compliment you. “you’re glowing today maam!” “this colour really brings out your eyes!” “is that new…? looks great!” and he blushes because you 10000% use your arms to squish your cleavage together when talking to him. making sure itadori gets a good view of your tan lines.

ohhh he definitely makes the first move, only once he knows you’re not just flirting and you’re actively attracted to him. yuuji catches you starting as he gulps down the strawberry lemonade you make for him every day, and on his break he sits on your sun bed with you — smelling of chlorine and sweat, and pulls your feet into his lap. you feel him rock hard under neath his trunks but he says nothing whilst grabbing your sun lotion and slowly working it into your skin.

“i see the way you look at me,” he’ll mumble in a breathless, panting voice. you can’t tell if it’s the heat or the tension between you that makes him that way. “tell me to stop if this isn’t what i think it is.”

you let him work the milky lotion into your bronzed skin, sighing as he rubs out the knots and tightness in your muscles — fingers running higher and higher up your inner thigh and stopping just short of where you need yuuji most. moaning instead of answering, the dull tip of his digits press against your bright red bikini bottoms n yuuji sees the way your eyes melt into your skull as he signs his name against your budding clit.

“t-this is exactly what you think it is.” you sigh, nails digging into his wrist in a silent plea for more. more fingers, more pressure, more attention than any man could give. only yuuji.

a dark chuckle slips from his lips, the gusset of your bottoms now tucked behind your swollen folds — yuuji’s brown eyes drinking in your slick kound, glistening in the summer sun. “dirty, dirty girl.”

you don’t mind when he gently moves your head, deft fingers massaging your scalp as he forces you down his length until you feel his precum cascade down your throat. each gag and swallow pulls a hiccuped whine from the centre of yuuji’s chest and he really can’t believe his luck with you. you’re so special, you’re the best, you even swallow when he cums too soon and thick white spills underneath your tongue — you kiss him then, with his seed on your lips like a pretty gloss

i think initially he heads to your dorm to apologise. his words rehearsed until they’re settled into every crevice of his brain and flowers in his hand nearly crushed from how tight he’s gripping them. girls like flowers. he thinks. you’re a girl. his friend who’s not his girlfriend. a pretty girl. all hope on him is lost.

once he’s in your dorm though, you’re changing to go to one of nobara’s games — half dressed and flitting around your room whilst yuuji tries to work himself up into the apology you deserve. but he can see down your bra, and down the curve of your waist and your thighs peek out the bottom of your mini skirt. you’re not even listening to how sorry he is for cumming down your throat after fucking it raw. for leaving welts across your tummy and marks on your neck. for using you to get over himself.

so big, muscular athletic yuuji says fuck it. pinning you against the wall, prying your lips open with his tongue when you gasp.

“what does it take to get you listen, hm? do i need to fuck you again to get it through your head?”

in search of the voice your head turns slightly — catching plumes of pink hair against golden skin, a boy with big Sony headphones wrapped around his neck and his shirt bunched up by his collarbones too. he’s laughing. at you!

and he’s hot. the kind of hot that feels hard to come by these days, he’s relaxed in nature, stylish from what you can tell — you count two ear piercings on the first look and two silvery ones on his chest if you ogle further — he dresses like the kind of boys you’d see on your screen in 2003. not to mention, the angle of his jaw is defined and sharp enough that it could cut if your finger dragged across its edge. you feel like he could be fun, something to tide you over until the easy breeze of september comes.

“somethin’ funny, pretty boy?” deciding to chance it, like one would when they decide to slip from the shade into the summer sun, you clear your throat and reach out to beach boy beside you.

yuuji looks up from his own steaming bowl of pho, grin loose on his lips that are lined with a gentle rouge from the spice. “you think ‘m pretty?”

“as much as you think i’m funny.” you snap your wooden chopsticks in two, rubbing them against each other. “i’m funny, right?”

he’s like a puppy, spine straightening at full alert in the same way a puppy would when offered a treat. “super, soo funny,” the pink haired boy grins, your stomach curls in on itself with want. he’s so fucking cute. “whatcha got there?”

“the special!” a shuffle of your seat and you’re near, sneakers kicking his under the table, knees close to touching. chopsticks swirl in your bowl and fresh coriander seeps into the heat of the air. who would have thought pho could be an aphrodisiac. “it’s the—”

“best thing on the menu, right?” yuuji laughs again and finishes for you — pressing his body closer into your little bubble. the boy smells like beach waves and sea air, he looks like your next catch. “my name’s—”

that old lady comes shuffling back as if she’s part of the conversation, an expert pulling her strings, which is working by the way. if you’d had any less decency you’d be walking him back to your apartment and keeping him there until you’re slick with a different kind of heat.

“his name is yuuji itadori. he comes here everyday. same time. he needs a girlfriend.” the old lady nonchalantly pushes a bottle of chilli sauce towards yuuji. “tired of seeing him in my shop.”

“gee thanks! i bring you good business!”

to bring him back to your conversation, you smile softly and slip your hands over his knees — playfully, feeling his skin burn under your touch. “you on the market, yuuji?”

“for you? any day,” attention returns to you, but he takes a long slurp of his noodles too. melting chocolate brown eyes traversing down your frame in an obvious manner. for once you understand what it feels like to be desired a tall glass of water. yuuji watches the twitch of your thighs as you cross your legs, beads of sweat that run down your tank top as you eat alongside him. “i like funny girls. pretty too.”

“so now i’m the pretty one?”

“the prettiest girl,” he checks you out once more, raw lips between his teeth whilst he ponders his next question. “you got a boyfriend?”

“shit, maybe i’m about to,” it slips out before you can stop it, that giddy giggle you get when you think you’ve met your soulmate in a stranger passing by. “he’s kinda cute. got pho on his face.”

“wipe it off for me?” yuuji leans in and you lick your thumb, swiping the corner of his mouth where sauce lies. “i want your number. be free on saturday for me please, i’m taking you out. you can’t say no.”

someone in the kitchen makes a sound of elation, the chatter in the restaurant ceases inquisitively but you’re too busy nodding a long with dream boat yuuji to care. you put your number in his phone and he texts you a time for your date so that you have his contact too.

“saturday, don’t be late.”

consider hot single girl summer cancelled.

end ! likes are appreciated, but just liking doesn’t do much on tumblr! to support and motivate myself and other writers, reply, reblog and comment if you'd like to see more!! — asks are open to thirsts and thoughts! join my taglist ! love you!

one girl stops you by the fridge one morning, yuuji’s shirt clinging to her curves and covering the fingerpad shaped bruises on her hips. “i don’t know how you live with him without jumping his bones,” she’d giggled, reaching for your milk. “he’s got the whole package, you know?”

you start looking at itadori a little differently. your eyes fall from his face to his print when you greet him after work or in the mornings when he’s back from the gym — attempting to discern the type of underwear he’s wearing based on what shows through his sweats. and you’ve always been touchy with each other, you’re friends and he’s great for cuddles, but now when you’re relegated to his lap during movie nights with fushiguro and his girlfriend, todo and nobara, oh! and maki and yuuta — you can feel the difference in his girth pressed against every time he shifts.

when he’s got those little tight boxers on that struggle to contain his hard on. the one you both ignore.

it’s one of those same movie nights where you cross boundaries for the first time. nobara stays over, too drunk to go home and be on her own, so you offer up your room and hunker down with yuuji because todo’s got the couch this time. in the mix, you some how manage to convince your pink haired roommate that you sleep better when he’s around. not just because he sleeps naked, you know this — you’ve been waiting on it just to see if the rumours are true.

yuuji scratches the back of his neck sheepishly with a soft blooming blush as you undress for bed and you try not to be obvious when your eyes trace the hardlines of his body right down to his crotch. those stupid tight white boxers you can’t seem to ignore now.

“sorry, know it’s a lot.” because you keep staring and he keeps twitching underneath the fabric and you have no idea how to tell him he’s making your mouth water. “i can put some sweats on—?”

you’re all too eager when shake your head no. “i-it’s your room. sleep however you’re most comfortable!”

naturally you end up snuggled with itadori in bed. surrounded by him. an excuse to be close. yuuji in nothing but those evil little boxers and you in morning but his shirt. your face in his neck for safety from the horror movie you’re watching and his arm loose around your waist. and you really can’t help it, when his cock is sitting there all fat and heavy and weepy, kicking because the air in the room is against his feverish skin — your fingers dance down to the waist band playfully at first. you’re touchy. friends do this… but then they hit the sinful swirl of his pink happy trail and everything shifts.

lust starts to bubble within your eyes, usually so sweet and innocent. you just have to know if he feels as big as he looks in them.

yuuji exhales shakily. not looking at you. “you’re not watching the movie, are you?”

a hint. a chance. you take it. “can i touch it?” your ask is a breathless whisper — as light as summer’s breeze and barely there. like a figure in the night. touch him, rub on him, do everything you’ve been thinking about for months.

he’s already straining, clenched at the abdomen to keep himself from cumming from the friction against his inner seam. yet he grows under your inquisitive attention, throbbing in a dull rhythm that calls up your greed as though it were following the beating lull of a siren’s song.

yuuji’s cheeks glow warm in the dimness, a rose tinted flame in the dark. he swallows. “if you wanna… j-just be careful, yeah?”

that’s all it takes.

his head tips back in a filthy shameful moan — pink hair askew like the flutter of petals — and his throat bobs as he swallows down a flurry of curse words once your hand slips past the waistband. your grip curiously stretches the tightness of boxers as your tiny hand wraps around his fat girth. sticky, pulsing with arousal, prominent veins forming indents in your palm.

“you feel so big, yuuji,” your nose brushes his pulse point with the same gentleness you would with your lips for a kiss. it’s as if you’re trying to inhale his life force, tuck yourself impossibly closer. he feels swollen in your hand, cock beating as unsteadily as his heart, and he oozes premature white into the crevices of your finger prints. “sensitive too.”

“nngh, i know,” whilst itadori’s hips jump without his control and forces his length through your first, the weight of his crown drops to yours. the two of you share a view, your slippery hand in his near-see-through boxers doused with slick and precum beading from his sappy mushroomed tip. “s-sorry, fuck. ‘m just so hard and you’re so pretty and you smell so good.” he admits to you quietly in a high pitched whine, like a secret exchanged between two lovers at a rendezvous point. for your ears only. no one else gets to know how wrecked you have him.

the bulbous head of his cock is raw and red, shiny, as it peaks out from the elasticated band of his boxers — only because you’ve stroked him to full hardness. he no longer fits in the fabric. you thumb him there in comforting circles, spreading his arousal in the same manner that drool spreads across your tongue.

long, dark lashes flutter against your forehead like angel’s kisses and you squeeze around every inch that slides through your hold — sharing airy moans the more yuuji leaks against your tight knuckles. “you could make me cum like this, y-y’know? in my boxers like a — fuck — like a teenager,” yuuji stutters, chasing words that don’t make sense on his tongue. hips running after the solace your soft strokes. “makes me feel so filthy, but i’ve been waiting for you. t-to notice? how badly i’ve wanted it to be you touching me like this. i’d do anything for you. anything, baby girl.”

his honesty turns and twists your guts into feverish knots.

“then will you?” you purr artlessly. eyes on the string of drooly white leaking from his sensitive tip. “wanna see how much you cum too.”

“god yes, i can cum. i’ll cum for you. just —!” yuuji’s large hand slips around your wrist and he guides you. helps you tug on the parts of his dick that make him gargle and struggle for breath. he bucks upwards, chasing pleasure and the heavenly solace your fist has to offer. “that’s it, just like that. make me cum, been waiting for so long.”

you’re in awe of it all. the ripple of his abs as he thrusts, the way moans coil in between the letters of your name as they leave his lips. you touch yuuji like you were made for it, jerk him off as though it were instinct. squeezing him every time his hips draw back, circling his tip over and over in languid runs of your thumb around the world.

he takes that as a sign, permission to let go of the unravelling knot he’s been trying to hold together since first laying beside you. on instinct, like his body knows nothing else, he squeezes you tight against him — cheek smooshed against your crown, shaky loud and whimpers in your ear that have your own underwear damp and he snaps.

like a twig with little resistance to pressure.

“oh my god — baby, shit!”

yuuji’s release is sizeable, viscous like lava flow as it rockets hotly up his abdomen and pools amongst the ridges of his abs and belly button. white against gold. his underwear is positively soiled all the way through, crude stringy cum gathering amongst his balls and your wriggling fingers as you jerk him through his high. where his back bows towards the ceiling as though the heavens have come to collect his sweet soul and his thighs shake like his foundations are unsteady.

and even after all that, all the ropes of hot white that hit his skin — he’s still hard and swollen, monstrous in size that suddenly dawns on you as yuuji rolls you onto your back. landing on top.

his shoulders, as they heave, block out the glow of the movie playing behind him — crowding you against the pillows, acting as a shield to hide you away from the world and you feel him heavy against your tummy. cold with slick but heated with arousal at the same time.

your roommate grins, buzzing and slow. “how many inches is the biggest dick you’ve ever taken?”

“i don’t… know? i’ve never measured?” you squeak, suddenly flushed with a delicious mix of horniness and fear. “why?”

yuuji clicks his tongue then, big hand sliding up your face to cover your mouth — his free one guiding his erection between your now parted thighs.

“just wondering, how much of me you’ll be able to take tonight.”

end ! likes are appreciated, but just liking doesn’t do much on tumblr! to support and motivate myself and other writers, reply, reblog and comment if you'd like to see more!! — asks are open to thirsts and thoughts! join my taglist ! love you!

yuuji gets so sensitive when he finally gets to be with you. maybe it’s exam week, maybe class has taken up too much of your time towards the end of the semester and you’re too tired to kiss, let alone fuck by the end of the day. so when you finally get a moment alone at the dorms, when you’re finally underneath him again, sweaty and sniffing, nipples brushing against his chest from the brutal force of his hips cantering into yours — he’s cumming too soon cause you hug him so well n bathe him in your slick and cry his name like you’ve gone dumb and it’s the only word you know… it’s so much.

syrupy, hot white that dribbles down your inner thighs and webs around his thick circumference. so much that it helps yuuji slide deeper, he’s got no choice but to fuck it into you, make sure it smears along your velvety walls before he’s cumming when. he throws his jersey off somewhere in the room, everything too temperate and too humid, sex in the air and mingling between every breath you take after every kiss.

and god, his balls can’t stop twitching, shaft won’t stop throbbing with every wave and he shudders wholly above you, words stuck in his throat as it runs dry unlike his balls. so ready to be milked, so ready to fill you up again. all of it all over the sheets, all sticky on your doughy shaky thighs and your soft tummy. he’ll keep cumming until he’s shooting blanks, but every time there’s more than the last because you keep begging for enough to knock you up.

“please yuu? jus’ one more? promise i’ll be so good. missed you… missed you fillin’ me…” you wail, begging for another load despite how full of cum and cock you are. it’s been so long since you went at it like this, the practises and the exams have you aching carnally for each other. you hardly ever beg like this, that’s how he knows. yuuji’s neglected his baby. now you want a baby. you’re too innocent, too pure and you always let him lead but now you’re dazed out of your fucking mind as you plead for yuuji’s dick like your life depends on it. a heap of swollen lips and foggy glasses and salt-licked limbs beneath his stocky, strong frame.

fuck, he knows.

he knows you’re being dangerous. he knows he can’t get you pregnant. not now. not yet. and he knows you’re being so greedy and yuuji will never ever say no. can’t bring himself to pull out when you clench on him just like that and your ankles lock at the base of his spine. keeping his meaty girth plugged in that soaked, spasming hole.

so then pink hair tickles the junction at your neck as his head drops to it, yuuji’s breath shaky and his eyes watery ‘cause even he’s overwhelmed by just how much your perfect pussy drains him. caked in frothy cream, seed oozing over your swollen clit where your heartbeats proud. “but you are, baby,” he heaves, collapsing on top of you with flushed cheeks and a kiss to the side of your head. “you’re so good, feel like a dream. dream come true… but i can’t—”

“but you’d…you’d never say no,” you whimper, all pouty and whiney — clenching again with that warm gush of slick and seed coating the veins on yuuji’s sensitive cock. now you’re playing a sick game itadori didn’t even know you could play. his shy baby, with her cute little glasses sliding down her nose the faster he pumps into her, skirt flipped so his cock can carve a home for itself in her cunt… you’re killing him. manipulating yuuji into pressing his cum into you and keeping there when he really shouldn’t.

his abs contact, muscles twisting tight against your soiled stomach like he’s trying to hold back an orgasm just seconds away from breach. “please please please yuuji. want you to cum again ‘n again. wanna feel you breed me. wanna r’member how you knocked me up.”

what else can he do? is there any point in holding back? you’ve already taken more loads than he can count so he really can’t help it when his body succumbs to cold shakes and warm cunt, ropes of white landing deep within — clinging to every ridge along your ribbed walls. waves of it flow into you, an erotic stream that paints you in his claim. he’s hiccuping now, rendered a weak hunk of muscle on top of you — exhausted in a way not even practice with coach gojo could make him feel.

“can’t talk like that when i’m inside you, baby. d-dunno what i’ll do.”

itadori heaves, though he’s not helping much — grinding into you with long, hard circles… ass taut and clenched as he pushed his release deeper inside. like he’s trying to make it stick. trying to plug you full, because after begging for it, you’re not allowed to waste a single drop.

you can’t help the way your body trembles in the cage of his muscular arms while his abs ripple against your tummy and his pelvis tacks deliciously to your swollen clit. the bed creaks beneath the sloppy affair of your grinding bodies and somehow, within the mess of sex and love, your freehands link and squeeze to ground one another. “the way you’re suckin’ me in, god, honey,” yuuji coos, his words tickle the shell of your ear delicately, contrasting with the carnivorous way his deep brown eyes drink you in when he pulls back slightly to look at you, silver chain and dog tags dangling above your hot face, as if he’s picturing you nice and full of him and his seed. “so selfish, you don’t wanna let me pull out. you want this cum…yeah?” 

in that moment, you think you might cum, all because of the breathy whimpers from your lover that ghost over your dampened cupid’s bow ( wet from kisses ) — accompanied by the sensation of his hard-on bullying its way into your tight, quivering little hole. there’s a keen smile that spreads across yuuji’s plush lips when you nod your head ‘yes’ in response, you feel his excitement and desire for you deepen when the entire length of him twitches inside of you — pulsating as small spurts of precum begin to line your lewdly squelching walls.

“i knew you would, you’re such a good girl…and you’re all mine, how lucky am i? that you’re all. fucking. mine.” for a boy so sweet and gentlemanly outside of the bedroom, itadori is always sure to fuck you nasty and raw whilst making you feel like the most adored person on the planet. yuuji’s sailor-mouth-like praises are slurred and sinful, a tale tale sign that he’s already pussy drunk as he sheaths inch after inch within you. you can hardly blame him, not when your body adjusts to yuuji so perfectly — silken pussy stretching over the blue spiralling veins on his heavy cock. “mine to love, mine to fuck, mine to breed.” he tells you through seraphic gripes too.

“ohmygod!” you squeal, voice ringing hoarsely in your throat. your cunt spills honey molasses and sweet nectar against your ravaged sexes, juices intertwining with the small pink tufts of yuuji’s happy trail as his bright red tip bears down harshly on your gummy g-spot — providing him with the lube he needs to make love to you properly. “baby…i c-can’t!” 

just as you moan out again, legs squeezing around your boyfriend’s slender waist — yuuji’s blushing face ducks into your neck, making quick work of marking up your skin…because if he looks at your face, the way your brows crease softly and your lips part in a gentle ‘o’, and sees the way it twists with mounting pleasure. he won’t be able to hold off for much longer, he’ll lose his mind and fuck you too hard for either of you to cope. he knows that you can take it, manage to take all of his seed and all of his love — but if yuuji snaps, he’ll be pounding into you until he’s shooting blanks. 

with your hands traversing upwards into yuuji’s sea of pink curls and over his smooth undercut, he reacts with his golden eyes rolling back into the dark depths of his skull — temporarily locking away your sunlight that brings warmth to your dorm. a familiar heat prickles underneath the surface of your skin like a thousand tiny needles as you pant out your words, pleading with bambi as you look up at yuuji. “i want your cum, yuuji, i want you to…hah… fill me up ‘n get me pregnant…” there’s a feeling painfully seated above your abdomen, a burning sensation of mounting pleasure like a wound desperate to be licked and soothed by itadori.

by grinding up against him, sticky clit smearing over his tense stomach and golden abs, you think that you might garner some relief — but you only feel teased and taunted when the jock pulls his cock from the snugness of your tight head to slap his milky cockhead against your pulsing mound proudly.

“don’t say it like that, fuck, baby,” yuuji all but groans, lashes fluttering at the slick sound your cunt makes with each love tap. beads of his precum ooze over you in another form of claim, glazing you in yuuji’s scent and taste. some of it even drips from your abused hole as it clenches around nothing, desperate to be filled by all that your boyfriend has to offer. “there’s so much… s’leaking out of you. gonna have to keep you on my dick always, give you all my babies.” the rose haired man can’t even hear himself speak, not over the sound of blood rushing through his ears — carrying sex crazed hormones. certainly not over your sweet sighs that form a melody with the pap, pap, pap of your pussy as he slowly sinks back into you — building up a steady rhythm to his thrusts, like an ocean’s regular tide.

yuuji can’t stop rambling, saying whatever lustful thought sits at the forefront of his mind. having you splayed out beneath him like this, your nipples pert against his firm chest and your breasts bouncing with every forceful lunge of his hips forward — it drives him up a wall. “gonna look so pretty ‘n round when you’re full of me. i’ll put a ring on it, make you my pretty wife — holy fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight. you like it when i talk to you like that, huh?” the thick vein on the underside of his shaft presses deliciously up against pleasure spots that only yuuji knows about, never leaving you unsatisfied, not even for a moment as his body rocks passionately into yours.

tanned skin and hard muscle feel slippery underneath your trembling hands. you don’t know what to hold onto, don’t know how to ground yourself when you feel this good and yuuji’s cock skilfully dives into your sopping heat — promises of the future, a wedding and family hand in the humid air buzzing between you both but is best said by the way itadori’s body dsnces with your own, his arousal soaked signature lining your rippling walls.   

“need that so bad, yuuji! need you so bad… please fill me up, i want it inside.” you hiccup and demand, hardly able to speak through it all. the bed moans and groans just like you do, every time itadori’s dick pumps in and pulls out of your dripping, greedy hole — coated in a layer of foamy white. using your elbows as leverage, you work your hips down to meet yuuji in a slick and sensual dance, clenching at every inch of him that assails your insides until delight crackles over your hazy brain.  

“god, baby please…if you keep talking like that i’m gonna—“ yuuji whines from deep within his chest, the sound resonating through you and shooting straight down to your creamy cunt that clamps down on him, pulling little droplets of precum from his sensitive tip. 

your next words have the jock pounding into you with new vigour, desperate to give you everything that you want. “d-don’t pull out, yuuji. inside.” 

“ahh, okay,” he whimpers as his voice rises in pitch, brown eyes stinging with tears. his golden arms flex as they lift you by the apex of your thighs — dragging you back onto his cock and it’s unforgiving pace. itadori presses his forehead to yours, caramel eyes shining with tears that gleam in the afternoon sunlight breaking through the curtains of your dorm.  “okay, okay fuck. okay, oh god — h-honey, i’m…fuck! i-im cumming!” he stumbles over his every word, the pink haired jock’s entire world shattering into smaller glass fragments as he finally hits his peak. thick waves of white flood your womb, hot and viscous and lighting you up from the inside out. it coats your swollen pussy lips in an opaque layer that smears along your inner thighs, pouring endlessly from yuuji’s fat cock and breeder’s balls.

effectively breeding you. 

still humping at you relentlessly and not daring to leave you far behind, yuuji tacks two of his fingers to your clit and caresses it in smooth circles, searing his name into you forever. he never lets up, fucking his cum into your womb with languid thrusts — bulbous and mushroomed cockhead spurting his hot seet against your g-spot as it grazes the epicentre of your pleasure over and over again. yuuji holds you in his arms while your vision clears, replaced by only blinding flashes of white and accompanied by an empty scream rattling around in your throat. your arousal spurts out of you in generous and clear streams, nearly forcing yuuji’s cock from your tight, rippling walls — painting both you and him in your juices. 

your boyfriend can barely hold himself above you as you both finally come down, flopping onto you and trapping you against the sex soiled matress for cuddles. 

“we can’t have babies, yuuji,” you laugh happily, letting out a puff of air from deep within your chest once you’re finally able to catch your breath. “not right now, we’re too young and we’re still in college!”

“well duh, not right now…” he muses, kissing your jaw and your neck and every part of you that he’s marked up and bruised. “but like afterwards…yanno? a few years down the line when we both have jobs. i’m gonna be pro and you’ll be a sexy career woman. ‘n i’ll make so much money that you can take all the time off you want. make sure you’re nice and taken care of and—“ 

giggling, the sweet melodies of your laughter cut through your boyfriend’s wistful rambling. 

“what’s so funny?” 

“it’s just…you’ve really got this all planned out, huh?” you reach a hand up to cup itadori’s sweaty cheek, brushing a thumb over the rough scarring at the corner of his mouth. he leans into you, much like a cat seeking physical touch, and you scratch just under his chin. “you want to be with me for that long?” 

“i mean…yeah. i want you for the rest of my life. i thought that was obvious,” yuuji manages to say while you squish his cheeks and play about with his face, sounding a little dejected. “don’t you? … don’t you want that with me?” 

your smile drops as you shift to your elbows, immediately dead set on reassuring your usually confident boyfriend. “of course i want that with gou. i want everything with you, it’s just that…” you chew on your words, push them around the cavern of your mouth as it dries with nervousness. “it’s just that… i’m still so different to you, i’m still not…conventional by any means. so i just thought… by the time college was over you’d—“ 

“i’d get bored of you?” 

yuuji looks almost offended, his pink and kiss-swollen lips pushed forward into a pout and his dark brows drawn together in the centre of his forehead. falling back onto the sheets, one of his hands sink into the pillow supporting your head as you lay flat on your back — you feel it tremble with an emotion you can’t quite place on his face. is it anger? hurt? annoyance? either way, your heart hammers in your chest and crawls it’s way up your throat. you feel nauseous at the prospect of even upsetting yuuji — especially after the loving sex you’ve just had. 

a croak in your throat replaces your sweet voice, you’re not sure if it’s because of how you’d been previously screaming your boyfriend’s name or because of how nervous you’ve suddenly become. “y-yeah,” you say slowly. “that.” 

“how could you even think that?” yuuji breathes steadily, the corner of his mouth twitching into a frown but you can’t bare to look at him any longer — casting your gaze to the side. 

shaking your head, you blink back tears you hadn’t even known were there. “i don’t… i don’t know. forget it, pretend i never said anything.” 

itadori bends at the neck to reach you,  tutting into the air as it cools down and loses its feverish taste for lust. his nose bumps yours, the pair of them becoming neighbours while his breath coasts across your face almost comfortingly. 

“when i say i want you, i mean it. forever,”  he confesses, like a reflex, like the natural reflex that his brain has to make his heart beat. “i want you to be my wife after all this. you’re not just some college fling to me. i want to buy you a house, a big ring, keep you comfortable for the rest of my life. i decided on that when i first met you,” a calloused finger and thumb tilt your chin to the perfect angle, making you look at him, your gaze falling into a mahogany one belonging only to your doting partner. “i don't care how long it takes to prove this to you… but you’re the love of my life, so have a little faith in me. okay?”

yuuji takes your hand in his, placing your palm on the left side of his chest where the muscle keeping him alive races for you. the only girl in the room. the only girl in his worlds. his dog tags jingle at the movement but his eyes on you remain unwavering and so full of commitment. you’d be stupid not to believe him now.

“okay,” you affirm sweetly, tilting your head a little further in a silent ask. you want a kiss. “i love you, yuuji.” 

“and i love you right back,” he mumbles against your lips without skipping a beat, slotting your mouths together perfectly in a gentle chaste kiss. “now baby, please stop asking me to cum inside, you know i can’t help it and we can’t have babies just yet,” yuuji whines and collapses on top of you with a huff. 

“you’re the one who said you wanted to give me babies!” 

“and you’re the one who keeps feeding into my breeding kink, let’s not get it twisted here!”

and all throughout your playful bickering, yuuji stays nestled deep inside of you — keeping you plugged full. of both his cum and his love.  

everybody and their mother was aware of jujutsu tech university’s all star jock. the captain of the school’s football team with dashing good looks, alluring brown eyes and a pleasantly higher than average GPA. yuuji was the picture perfect student, the kind you see photographed throughout those glossy college prospectuses they hand out to those seeking to further their high school education. 

on the field, the pink haired jock was brutish, a whirlwind force like that of a hurricane — bringing the wrath of hell on earth during each of his games. no one could stop him. no he could stand in his way. there was a reason why yuuji had risen so quickly through the ranks of his team to become captain before the end of his second year. the special scholarship and full ride he’d earned straight out of school was a testament to his value as a player too.  in all honesty, you’d have to be a major tool or top tier fool to not recognise the student’s strength.

everyone knew it, jujutsu tech university needed yuuji on their team. 

in his short time at the school, he’d taken them to nationals, brought home trophies and not to mention his very ability to break down a wall of men twice his weight class without a care in the world had solidified the team’s reputation as undefeatable. as a jock, itadori had to be big, brawny and bestial — and, combined with athleticism bestowed upon him by whatever gods there were, it was no wonder that yuuji itadori was popular amongst his peers too. 

as rumour had it, he was a good fuck. word on the street was that he was never seen with his arm around the same person twice. according to the whisperers.m, yuuji was a serial cheater — a party goer too busy for relationships, or a social climber dating a model or an actress from overseas so he could make it into the big leagues. 

no matter where you went, someone had something to say about the jock as if they knew him personally. but of course, all of that was just piping hot gossip, like freshly spilled tea. mistruths and misinformation fuelled by the student body’s inability to deal with their personal demons and monstrous bouts of green-eyed jealousy. because in reality, yuuji really was perfect, a well rounded human being. like most people, there was no denying that he had his flaws, but generally — he was kind, and well liked. even with all of the rumours  surrounding him. 

you’ve never really met yuuji itadori…but to you he was just another guy blending in with the sea of college boys you wanted nothing to do with, regardless of whether or not their reputations preceded them. you don’t know a single personal thing about him — just like the fact that he doesn’t know a single detail about you…and that doesn’t bother you. at least you try not to let it bother you. it’s not like college boys had taken an interest in you either. why would it be any different with the literal caption of the football team? 

the circles you run in are completely different, the paths you’re taking won’t ever align or cross. yuuji is popular, pretty and well liked and, believe it or not, you’re just…you. an awkward, twenty-something year-old girl just trying to keep her head down and get through the nightmarish hell that is your average university degree. luckily, you have your friends, varying degrees of misfits with some more outlandish and extroverted than you — they stand out where you blend in, retreating to the safety of shadows and sticking to the walls that you know best. 

university is hard, balancing socials with deadlines and relationships with your introvertedness and anxiety is exhausting, and not to mention — your flatmates back at your dorm are the weirdest, strangest group of people you’ve ever encountered. at least you have your own bathroom. 

you weren’t stupid, you were self-aware enough to know that you’d mix with yuuji itadori like oil mixed with water. the popular always come out on top. you know that he’d never go for someone like you, he’s too attractive, messes around too much, hasn’t had a proper partner since finishing school ( according to your friends ). even then, you remind yourself that you really don’t know itadori. 

the only time you’ve ever properly spoken to him is when you lent him a pen at the start of term. he’d showed up late to your shared class with a dead laptop, a tattered notebook and not an ounce of stationary. he was late and unprepared and your professor, who’d taken you two years to win over in tutorial ( mind you ), let him off the hook. now that had your guard up, miles high. to you, it made sense that a jock at the top of the social food chain was able to get away with an academic crime like the lack of punctuality. to you, a socially awkward, struggling student…

it wasn’t fair.  

it wasn’t fair. how soft spoken and kind yuuji sounded when he turned to you, chest heaving and sweat beading in his hair like, asking for a pen. 

‘hey… sorry to bother you, but do you by any chance have something i could write with? yanno…to borrow! until class is over?”

it wasn’t fair, how his gentle smile filled your tummy with the tiny flaps of butterfly wings when you nodded. how warm the golden skin of his fingers felt when they brushed yours and you passed him a pen. 

it was unfair… how in an ideal world this would be how you meet, fell in love or maybe even dated. but because you’re you, a girl so aloof and afraid to break out of her shell… it would never happened. yuuji itadori would never see you, know you for anything more than the girl in his class who lent him a pen. falling for the jock was completely out of the question for you, hardly an option, especially with your walls built so high and sturdy — glued together by slabs of cement to protect yourself from your harsh reality or perhaps your own insecurities. he was everything that you weren’t, everything you willed yourself to be. he was bright and brilliant and beloved where you were scared, shy and in the shadows. 

all you wanted was to make it through college. never in a million years would you end up together. fate wouldn’t allow it. if fate even existed. 

he would never really know you. 

you would never really know him. 

the real you or the real him. 

but little did you know, that was all about to change.

student halls are always the calmest on a sunday afternoon.

very few students can be spotted along the corridors or darting between different flats. the regular hustle and bustle lays dormant like a resting volcano after the explosion that is the saturday night high. the presence of drunk and rowdy residents in their early twenties is replaced by a comforting silence that sweeps through the halls like warm mist rolling over the surface of ice cold water, so quiet you could almost hear a pin drop. 

for most students the high morning sunshine filtering through half heartedly drawn curtains tastes like burning acid on their tongues, goading the bile that rises in their throats, acting like a villainous light behind their scrunched eyelids as they attempt to shrink back into the safety of darkness — a cure for their pounding headaches and awful hangovers. 

your flatmates are no better, locked away in their en-suites after the ruckus they caused last night. perhaps that’d teach them not to drink half their weight in cheap shots from the bar or smoke until their brains melt out of their ears but you have no doubt that they’ll be in the same state of drunken comatose next week. providing them with some grace ( though it’s not like they give any to you on a regular weekday ), you tiptoe your way to the kitchen at around 12:45PM for a light breakfast before you begin to tackle the heavy workload from your biomedical science modules — you want to get a head start before classes pick up again this week, not to mention the group project due in the next two. 

time alone in the kitchen gives you way too much time to think. any other time, you’d be too busy with worksheets and lab reports to dwell on thoughts beyond equations, perhaps even the noise from your flatmates gathered in the kitchen after a 6PM lecture provides you with a welcome distraction from your thoughts. but when you’re alone like this, with nothing but the sounds of sizzling eggs in a hand-me-down pan and the kettle boiling to your left — you have no choice but to think outside of your academic pursuits. 

you think that sometimes college is…lonely. 

a large portion of your day is spent with your nose between the pages of a text book with little time for your interests due to the nature of your course but… it’s not like you make the time. plenty of people are able to balance their academics with their friends, family and even loved ones. could it be that you’re using your studies as an excuse? turning yourself into a growing recluse because you’re too afraid of the consequences of letting loose. you hardly drink, even with the comfort blanket of your friends, parties aren’t your scene and the loud noises of many campus events freak you out. 

but part of you… small, yet so loud, feels like you’re missing out on what it’s truly like to experience college and it’s a difficult feeling to escape, when you’re alone with the sunshine on your skin on a sunday morning. 

no one has ever told you to work harder than you play, no one has ever put pressure on you to sacrifice parts of your youth to succeed. that nagging, aching feeling to be good at something, if not at people then at school, was always on you. in some ways, you envied that quality in others — the parts of their brains that let them live a little instead of focusing on failures that hadn’t even happened yet. you were jealous of your flatmates and their confidence, your friends and their extrovertedness, your peers and their social standing. 

you wish that you were someone else —

to your left, the electric kettle rattles with the force of its piping hot water accompanied by a soft click — signalling the end to its duties and pulling you from your own thoughts that boil over. carefully, you assemble a cup of herbal tea to calm the raging storm in your mind and help you to focus on the day of work ahead. you finish off your breakfast with the fried egg you’d made laid over a bed of microwavable rice and some pickled veggies your flatmates luckily hadn’t discovered on your shelf in the fridge. 

your tumbling inner turmoil slows to a simmer as you somehow manage to make it back to your bedroom whilst juggling your dishes and mug — breathing a sigh of relief when you’re able to set everything down on your desk without a single spillage. with a clearer head, you slide into your seat ready to busy yourself with biology books and detailed powerpoints on anatomy when there’s another derailment to your train of thought. 

a knock at the door. 

thinking it’s one of your hungover flatmates begging you for a lifeline ( some of your pain meds ), you ignore it in favour of booting up your laptop and logging on to the university’s learning portal. 

knock, knock, knock. 

the knuckles rasping against the door grow more impatient and feverish — almost as if the person on the other side is desperate for some kind of answer. just like you, your flatmates aren’t dying for your attention nor are you for theirs, so you can’t imagine who could possibly want to break down the entrance to your shared apartment at this time of day. 

knock, knock, knock. 

jumping up in irritation, you leave the confines of your bedroom once more and march up to the front door — swinging it open without a second thought, only to be met with a near-miss fist to the face. the sight is like a shock to your system, as if someone has thrown a bucket of ice water over you or zapped you with a literal taser. the world slows down and your wild eyes screw shut to brace for impact. 

except it never comes. 

the fist that had been flying towards you seemingly at the speed of light collides with the weight of the fire safe door just behind your shoulder, practically trapping you against its cool laminated wood surface. “oh my god,” the source of the fist says in an apologetic tone, voice smooth and timbre as it wafts through your ears. “i am so, so sorry. god…are you okay?” 

without looking, you nod vigorously and take a deep breath to calm your heaving chest — the adrenaline from almost being punched in the fucking face still rushing through you. “y-yeah, ‘m fine. thanks.” 

“i really am sorry, i must have been knocking so hard that i didn’t even notice you opening the door,” the voice doesn’t retreat, instead swooping closer and past the invisible bubble of your personal space in order to check you over for any signs of injury. instinctively, you curl in on yourself to become as small as possible but timidly look up — this time, meeting the eyes of the perpetrator. 

only then do you become hyper aware of the person before you, of the situation you’re in. pinned to the door in the entryway of your dorm by none other than yuuji itadori himself. he’s so close, close enough for you to catch a whiff of his earthy cologne and wisps of perspiration. he’s so close that you can see the dark, chocolaty flecks sprinkled like stardust in his hazel brown eyes — he’s so close that you feel like someone has shaken the sun from its heavens and placed it right on your doorstep. 

the yuuji itadori is standing in front of you right now and you have no idea why. 

swallowing thickly, you offer the campus jock a nervous smile. “s’okay, really.”

he seems somewhat satisfied with your answer, eyes as warm as freshly made hot cocoa dragging up and down the entirety of your form, before backing off entirely — having picked up on your nervousness. you wonder if itadori knows the effect he has on people when he’s that close or if he’s just oblivious to the socially acceptable boundaries of personal space. 

“good,” yuuji states firmly, nodding his head with bouncing pink locks in tow. now that he’s further away, you can almost admire him a little better. his signature red hoodie under the navy blue of his varsity jacket is tousled and his cheeks dusted with a pink soft enough to rival the spring blossoms outside — he looks like he ran here, straight from football practice. “ah, sorry to bother you but uhh… do you by any chance know if harumi sakuma might live here? we have a group project that we need to work on and —“ yuuji sheepishly rubs at the back of his neck as he talks, his gaze darting around the entryway the more he explains himself with the two of you standing there awkwardly. once they finally settle on you, relief floods yuuji’s warm brown eyes. “hey! i didn’t recognise you earlier but…i think i know you. nice pyjamas by the way.” 

you shrink under the pressure of the boy’s earnest stare, wrapping your arms around yourself in a weak attempt to hide your dorky sanrio pyjamas from him. you hadn’t the time to change nor were you expecting visitors. “a-are you sure?” comes your simple, inquisitive reply. people don’t really notice you on campus or know you outside of your tiny, little friend group. it’d be like finding a scientific organism outside of its evolutionary niche. so to have yuuji notice or even remember you… it’s weird… unbelievable, kind of.

“i’m positive,” cocking his head to the side innocently, itadori purses his lips thoughtfully. “we sometimes sit next to each other in professor ieri’s class, remember?” all you can do is blink slowly in response, heart racing behind within its calcium cage. itadori…he recognises you and taps his chin, explaining further. “you, uh, always write with those fancy pens, the gel ones that are super inky and smooth! you let me borrow one once. uhhh…moo-somethin’?”

you swear that your soul leaves your body the moment the pink haired jock recalls your first encounter — your world tilts on its axis and it feels like the ground is giving out under your feet. he remembers you. 

“muji,” you blurt out the pen’s name faster than your brain can catch up, stuck in a perpetual lag. “that’s the brand. muji.”

something changes in the awkward air fizzling between you both — when yuuji’s blank stare turns into a slow, sunshine-bright grin, you stand a little straighter and feel a little taller. like you can actually speak to him. 

“ah! right… i’ll have to get some then.” he muses encouragingly, as if to help you breeze through the rest of the conversation. 

you nod. “they’re pretty nice. though… i’m uh, i’m surprised you even remember that.” 

“‘course i would! how could i forget such a friendly gesture?” yuuji retorts, though there’s not a trace of malice in his tone. a gentle, playful smile coasts over his glossy plush lips making the jock appear almost offended, like you’d just accused  him of forgetting a long lost childhood friend. “why wouldn’t i remember?” 

that makes you think a little. did you just assume that because yuuji was popular, he posses the kind of human nature that appreciates the little things? did you categorise him into some preconceived notion? put him into a little check box labelled ‘superficial’? so far, itadori seemed like a good person who didn’t deserve your passing judgements — so you press your lips into a thin line, shrugging your shoulders instead.

“it was so long ago…”

it had been at the beginning of the semester, when the sporty super star had tapped you on the shoulder in the dark, begging with gorgeous brown puppy dog eyes to borrow a pen whilst your professor screened some boring physiology video for the class. 

“doesn’t matter, you still helped a guy out,” itadori hums with quiet appreciation — his golden eyes glitter in awe and for a moment, the world stops as if it’s just the two of you. again, a nervousness, or perhaps anxiety, crawls its way up your throat, filling the space between your heart and lungs and solidifies around the bones protecting them. yuuji makes you nervous and he knows it. he wouldn’t have stepped backwards and out of your space if he didn’t. “sorry, i’m getting sidetracked. harumi sakuma? does she live here? she’s my partner for the advanced physiology and anatomy project ‘n she’s been a no show.”

now that there’s a little distance between you — you feel like you can finally process actual thoughts instead of how handsome the jock up close. shrugging your shoulders apologetically, you crane your head in the right direction. “ah, well for starters she doesn’t live here,” you smile sheepishly, pointing down the hall. “she lives in 102. this…” then, you nod your head back to the gold-plated numbers nailed into the fire door behind you. “...is 103.”

“so wrong place and wrong girl. lucky i knocked here first, it means i actually get to thank you for lending me your pen and to introduce myself properly. the names yuuji itadori—“

“— i know who you are,” cutting yuuji off, you fiddle with the door handle behind you shyly, almost recreating his sentiment from earlier. “but it’s nice to meet you properly, itadori. i hope you find her.” 

“thanks, i’ll see you around.” yuuji says your name as he walks off, giving you a miniature salute. from your spot plastered against the door, you just about manage to catch his head of pink hair now knocking at 102 but quickly slam it shut just as theirs opens.

when you finally gather enough of your wits to scramble back into your apartment and then your bedroom, you melt in a sticky puddle of awe and amazement against your own personal and door. because you didn’t even think he knew who you were, let alone your name and now there’s a weird feeling in your tummy that you don’t recognise. 

butterflies.

the class that you share with yuuji is early on a thursday morning, the dreaded 9AM to round off the end of a long week.

usually, you would be able to sit through three hours of professor ieri’s laid back and drawn out teaching style without worry  — her lack of enthusiasm for class participation made it much more bearable and easier to take notes, so it’s not like you cared. but between your gruelling schedule of lectures and prep ahead of  time, you found yourself growing increasingly…anxious. 

you’d never really cared about how people perceived you when you lived a life in the shadows of others. at least until yuuji came along.

since your chance encounter with the jock last sunday, you couldn’t help but wonder if he remembered other small details about you too — like the way you wore your hair that one time or how you pick at your nail polish just before a test professor ieri hadn’t asked you to study for, or maybe even the way you start to pick at loose strings on your sleeves when class drags on for too long. 

now suddenly, the waking moments between sunday afternoon and that god-awful 9AM are spent worrying about what yuuji thinks of you — growing more and more apprehensive towards seeing him again. by now, you’ve probably checked his social media dozens of times, comparing and contrasting the lives that you lead and the persons you both put out for the world to see. itadori has thousands of followers across all years and courses on campus and his feed mainly consists of work out videos or promo for the jujutsu tech football team — each post drowned in comments of praise and admiration from his peers.

and you can’t even blame them, because if you were brave enough, you too would be screaming in the comment section about yuuji’s shirtless abs and flexing muscles and the sweat dripping off of them. 

you question whether or not the pink haired jock really knows any of these raving commentators, if they’re people he’s actually met or strangers he’s passed by. the very thought had been enough to deter you from following him anyway.

it’s 8:30AM when you arrive at the RCT Conservatory building for biological sciences and 8:35AM by the time you take your seat in the middle row of room 117. the lecture theatre is one of the smallest in the building, a little cramped and stuffy, and you usually leave the building feeling as though your allergies have worsened by a tenth-fold. but you like it here, with the age old carpets and the air that smells like an old woman’s home accompanied by under-tones of freshly baked milk bread. it’s more intimate, you think, the students in your class are able to bond more in this tight space even if it is within their close-knit clicks and pre-existing friendship groups.

despite class not beginning for another half hour, a few students sit inside chatting amongst themselves — already pulling out their supplies, stationary or laptops for note-taking. some of your peers you know from having been on the same course for the last three years, whilst others come from different courses with an option to take this class as a module. it’s like one big melting pot of kids in STEM.

shrugging off your backpack once you’re settled, you can’t help but notice a familiar head of rose pink hair at the front of the theatre. you then have the profound realisation that it’s yuuji who’s talking animatedly with professor ieri about whatever it may be…and he’s early, which can’t be a good sign. you wonder if he managed to figure out things with his project partner, but by the dejected look on his gorgeous face and the way in which he clenches the strap of his own backpack, you think things might have gone wrong. 

you’re not sure how long you sit there, staring at someone you hardly even know — suspended in time from where you’ve been setting up your desk, but again, you’re hit with realisation that you’ve never actually looked at itadori before. not like this and not in person. in reality, yuuji looks sort of.. mundane? his sense of fashion is popular but in no way does it reflect the stereotypical jock. his muscular frame is downed what looks to be a plush red hoodie and his varsity jacket, he wears wide leg denim jeans and a pair of beat up converse you’d think only the alternative kids would wear.

the way itadori probably stands out amongst his teammates is even more attractive to you. 

but the giggles of an animated group across the room, also admiring yuuji, rips you from your fantasy and thrusts you back into back into monotonous existence. you turn your attention to them and their conversation. “he’s so freaking hot,” one of them gushes, hardly holding back from kicking her feet and squealing in her place.

“like even when he’s doing nothing… how is he this hot?” another one chimes in, pointing 

“but did you see him play last friday? i swear i almost jumped onto the pitch and—“ 

you stop listening in from there, tuning out their excited, fangirl-like-whispers. and like an unsuspecting victim, you’re served with another harsh reminder that there is no world in which you and itadori yuuji could possibly end up together. it’s like a child playing make believe, a fictional fairytale and you’re embarrassed for even looking at him that way. 

you’d never stand a chance. 

you hardly know one another.

when you look back towards the front of the theatre, yuuji’s disappointed gaze turns towards you at the same time — immediately lighting up at the sight of you unpacking at your regular seat. he gives you a small wave, adjusting the strap of his bag before heading up to your row. instinctively, your eyes drop to the blank notebook before you, scribbling down today’s date to avoid the jock’s warm stare. how humiliating, he caught you looking.

the steps leading up to where you’re seated creak under the weight of yuuji’s footsteps. “good morning itadori!” you hear your classmates from earlier sing, undoubtedly batting their eyelashes up at him and waving sweetly. you resist the urge to gag or scoff.

“mornin’ guys! let’s have a great class!” he greets them back, ever so polite. “uhh, hey! is this seat taken?” your breath hitches at his nearness, a timid reply catching in the ridges of your throat. before you even have a chance to get the words out, the pink haired jock is slipping off his backpack and sliding into the chair closest to you. in the end, you settle on shaking your head silently and shuffle your belongings over so that there’s space for your newfound friend while the other students begin to filter in. 

a moment passes with a beat of quietness, awkwardness filling the space between you both. “s-so,” swallowing the hoarseness in the base of your throat, you will yourself to at least speak to yuuji. make conversation. “any news on your project partner? your chat with professor ieri didn’t look so good.”

sighing deeply through his nose as he unpacks his laptop, yuuji rubs the back of his neck while frustration becomes evident on his features. “i tried all week to get in touch with her, but it turns out she’s dropped out, had to move back home for a family emergency or somethin’ so now i’m working alone.” a frown pulls at the corners of his plush lips. “i feel for her, but this project is important for my grade and scholarship. i dunno how to balance the workload on my own.” 

yuuji turns his laptop on but it  fails to boot up. it’s dead. again. “ah crap, no battery,” he curses, his irritation building in unsteady stacks. “s-sorry to dump on you so early in the morning, by the way. this week has been rough.” 

while observing him, you had remained quiet this entire time — unsure of how to comfort your classmate…but out of a strange urge to help, you reach into your pencil case for a muji pen and pass it to yuuji, along with some paper. “it’s okay… here,” grateful, albeit wobbly smile he rewards you with should not be poking at the dormant butterflies in your tummy.  “you could… always be my partner. if you wanted…” 

as the class grows increasingly busier, someone briefly walks by seeking a handshake from the all-star player beside you but all the while, his focus remains entirely on you. overwhelmingly thankful. it’s like he’s looking past your walls into the depths of your soul,’really looking at you… in awe of your kindness. 

“r-really? you don’t… you don’t have a partner already do you?” 

“odd number in the class, proff said i could join a three or work on my own so i…” you trail off. “i chose to work alone. it’s easier for me. b-but! i don’t mind partnering up with you, especially since we both want a good grade?”

you can only imagine how important this one grade is to yuuji — you’ve heard that he has a lot to prove. it’s not every day that a sports star as young as him gets a scholarship into a top university to study paramedic science, a course extremely difficult to get into. not to mention completely left of the field of what jocks ‘stereotypically’ study. 

you share his fire for doing well. biomedical science isn’t easy either.

amidst it all, yuuji gets so excited he launches himself at  you with a fully blown hug, repeatedly thanking you with a level of enthusiasm too high for 8:55AM. heat burns beneath the surface of your skin and you flush at how casual he is with you already. how he smells so good. you back up shyly. “i promise i’ll be a good partner, we… we can meet between my practises — even after! whenever’s best for you!” he notices the pen in his hand again and apologises for nearly crushing you and it. “god, i’ll be careful with this, your pens are so nice, they seem expensive.” 

“you can keep it,” you say softly, calming your heart down. “the paper from muji is really good too… um, i have spare notebooks back at my dorm. you can have one while we work on our project, if you want.” 

“i’d like that a lot… thank you,” he whispers your name again. “here, let’s swap instagrams so we can uh.. arrange when to meet up ‘n stuff?” 

“ah! okay,” pulling out your respective phones and opening the social media platform’s designated app — yuuji hands you his phone to enter your handle and follows you right then and there: you accept his request and follow him back, nervous about how he might view your feed. 

as if to break the ice, itadori  sends you a dm and a science meme. “woah, your feed is super neat. you’re really organised, huh?” 

you just nod shyly. “yeah…” 

the conversation begins to die off there as both of you turn to the front of the lecture hall as class begins. 

however secretly, yuuji hasn’t taken his eyes off of you once, overwhelmed by your kindness, your shyness and softness. he finds himself excited to work on this project with you. to get to know his new partner a little bit more… because he’s only ever seen you around on campus, in passing and  between classes. 

but as you concentrate on taking your notes with your fancy pens, and neat writing, checking your laptop from time to time — eyes illuminated by its blue light, he realises.it’s the first time yuuji itadori has ever truly laid eyes on you.