As you got older, you stopped wearing basketball shorts and switched to skirts, then short shorts, then slacks. Frankly, it was hard for him to look away from your thighs. They were plush and soft and ran up the curve of your—

He tore away his gaze from your bare legs resting over the blanket and focused on the TV screen, the fan, and the open window pouring with rain. Anywhere but your tempting skin.

Sae usually doesn't admit these kinds of things, especially not to you, but looks alone? He's astonished that not even one person ever tried hard enough to date you. You're smart, comforting, and nice to look at. If he were to settle down, he would do it with someone like you.

Of course, someone like you.

"I don't mean it like that," he murmured, fixing on your eyes instead. Pretty they were—all round and warm and focused on his. "You reject everyone who's interested in you."

Your index rubs your chin thoughtfully. "That's because..."

"Of your standards. Always on about your anime boys, huh?"

"That is so not funny, Sae!"

"It is a little funny. You're like Rin. He's almost finished his Junji Ito collection."

"Oh, now we're comparing me to Rin—"

"You collect figures and manga."

"They're pretty."

"They're anime boys."

"They're Tomoe, actually. Don't generalise."

"Tomoe is an anime boy."

"You were the one who watched Kamisama Kiss with me!"

"Hmph. Touché."

When was it? The summer before he left for Spain? You were prancing on about your ritualistic tradition of bingeing romance anime with him. There was Kamisama Kiss; Lovely Complex; NANA, which he had to stop because he hated Shoji; and his favourite, Ouran High School Host Club. The blonde male lead, Tamaki, always made him snort into his sleeve as a boy while you shook his shoulder squealing about it.

Anime like that was more up Sae's alley compared to Rin's fixation for horror and suspense, so he quietly cherished those days. Lying on the couch, watching TV in the summer heat, your frame on your stomach next to his, destroying a popsicle stick. It was a much better predicament than watching some porno his teammates had found on a beat-up DVD rental.

After all, he was with you.

You fiddled with your hands as the movie played on. Taxi Driver, for the third time this year. It was his favourite movie, but now that he thought about it, he never asked if it was yours too.

Was it?

You severed his thoughts with a question. "What was the anime you like right now, anyway?"

"The Apothecary Diaries. I like Xiaomao."

"You just like her cause she's like a cat."

"Meow."

You rolled your eyes at his quip. "I wonder what you think of Jinshi, then."

He paused. Sae always had a soft spot for the types of people with an odd backstory, much like Jinshi. It spiced things up compared to all the boring societal bullshit he deals with enough every day. "...I like him too. But he's a little dramatic for my tastes."

"You only like him cause he's pretty."

"Are you slut-shaming me or projecting?"

You snickered. "The former. Is he your type?"

"Not really? What do you think my type is?"

Waving your hands around, you mocked. "Someone hot with a nice ass."

He scoffed, but for some reason, he could feel his jaw clench. "So now you think I'm shallow."

You snorted. "...Yeah."

"Looks aren't everything, y'know. Pretty sure I go by vibe."

You snickered, your hand reaching into the bag of potato chips, his favourite snack that he was banned from eating. Damn you. "Uh huh."

You popped the chip into your mouth; a soft crunch was heard between your teeth, but all he could focus on was the plushness of your lips. He wondered if they felt as delicate as they looked. If they were as untouched as you said. How could that be possible? Look at you—

"Y'know that scene in The Apothecary Diaries where Maomao thinks his dick is a frog?"

He rubbed his cheek, snorting into his palm. "What about it?"

"Do dicks feel like frogs?"

Sae hadn't jerked off enough to remember, and he certainly wasn't going to check. Sighing, he said. "I don't think so? Mine doesn't."

"So why did she think it was a frog?"

"She's never felt a dick before. And it was probably the position. He was on top of her, after all."

You shook your head. "No, she was on top of him."

"Idiot. He was the one who landed on her."

As Sae reached for his phone before you could pointlessly argue about their weird pseudo-sex position, the sheets rustled and—

You climbed on top of him. Eyes wide and cheeks flushed, grinning like you proved something. Your arms were braced on either side of his head, your hair grazing the skin of his cheeks. And your knees—they were braced on either side of his hips, the urge to grab them all too real. Too sweet. Too good.

His breath hitched, magenta bangs poking his forehead as he murmured lowly. "What are you doing?"

Still, his large hands moved to rest on your waist, anchoring himself.

You reached for the phone in his hand, plugging in the password you knew by heart into the screen, fiddling with the phone.

You tilted the glass right before his eyes, it was that stupid frog scene. Maomao was on top of Jinshi, and you were unfortunately correct.

"See! I told you she was on top of him!" You grinned, pulling the phone away.

Before Sae could process what was about to leave his lips, he scoffed. "Are you sure you've never even kissed anyone before?"

"...What is that supposed to mean?"

Fuck.

He grumbled softly. "You're on top of me."

You scowled. "It's how the scene goes—a physical demonstration. And you're dead wrong; I don't feel a frog in this position."

"Cause m'not hard, stupid."

But if you kept yourself there any moment longer, he might be. His dick was already stirring to life in his sweats.

"Pfft— You aren't?"

"Very funny. You're a natural at this."

"At what?"

Sae didn't want to overstep; he really didn't. Ever since you were kids, he had always felt this weird sense of protection towards you. At first, it was the same protection he felt towards his younger brother, Rin, even though you were the same age and probably tougher than him. Then as he grew older and hit that age where some people were more than family, that protection grew into something different. Something familiar, yet completely foreign at the same time.

So he shouldn't overstep; he'd be a horrible, horrible man if he did. But your lips are curved so prettily into a proud smile. Your eyes, the colour and wrinkles of skin, stirred something down his neck and abdomen.

The tingle didn't stop there, blood rushing to his half-hard cock.

Shit.

He already moved to tuck your hair behind your ear, whispering. "Temptation. Wanna gain some experience?"

You paused, eyes blowing wide.

Shit.

The both of you recoiled from each other instantly. Sae had nowhere to run, really, but he threw his head back against the couch, hands twitching, deciding if he should let go of your waist or not. You, on the other hand, completely pulled back. In this new position, it seemed more like you were straddling him than just looming over him.

A flush crept up his neck, his hand moving to cover the lower half of his face. "That was a—"

"Geez, didn't know you could be so bold." You laughed, rubbing the back of your neck.

He blinked, hoping you were another hallucination and he was dreaming in the confines of the Real Madrid training facility. That you were just another illusion tempting him.

No, you were still there. This time, your eyes lit up.

"Hey, that's a great idea, actually!" You leaned in closer again, a bright smile plastered over your mouth as your breaths mingled.

He paused. One second. Then, the next one. His lips twitched expectantly, his cerulean gaze low-lidded and fixed on you.

"...What is?"

"Teaching me how to kiss."

Damn his biology, cock completely twitching to life at your wanton suggestion. "Wha... What?"

"Oh, come on; it's just a little kiss," You whined, nudging his shoulder.

Sae cleared his throat, quickly adjusting the waistband of his sweats. "No."

"You've already kissed like, so many other people. One more wouldn't hurt. And it's for educational purposes."

"There's a difference when I kiss other people," he whispered, his sensual gaze betraying his words. "It's that they're not you."

"Dude, am I that bad?"

Dude? His brows furrowed, his lip curling into a grumble. "Not what I meant."

"Then what?"

The space between you was so thin he could die. Let the couch swallow him whole, and let the hallucination die with him.

Hazy excuses and words scrambled in his mind. "It's just that... We're friends. And your mom wouldn't be exactly happy with me if she knew about this."

You shuffled in your position, hips lifting off his. "...My mom isn't here right now. And we're not kids anymore. I don't need my mom's permission to do things."

Sae inhaled sharply when you pouted, head tilting back and hitting the soft cushioning. Were you going to keep whining about it until he gave in? Pester him and keep pressing yourself against him? God, what if he were going to like it?

Then, you muttered. "...Fine. Not like I wanted to know, anyway."

Ever since you were children, Sae had always been the more disciplined one of you two. When he was renowned as a football prodigy, nutritionists and dietitians quickly came into his life, lecturing him about his dietary restrictions to maintain and grow his build. While you ate Happy Meals and devoured candy every week, Sae had to almost entirely let go of fast food, specifically his favourite—French fries. There was no doubt that he had to let go of many things to be perfect, but then he discovered that perfection was more than a flawed goal. Flawed philosophy. A lie.

But even if he wasn't perfect—nobody was—Sae could have at least shown some semblance of hesitation or discipline, especially when it came to you, someone who was oh so dear to him.

Instead, his fingers wrapped around your wrist and tugged you down, his lips brushing your cheek.

One breath.

Then, the second one.

And on the third, his other hand snaked to the back of your neck, the faint blades of baby hair standing up from his touch.

"I'll teach you," Sae whispered, something resembling a low whine pulling from his throat. "Nobody else can."

You swallowed thickly, eyes wide and pouring into his.

"Okay, I trust you."

His lips were twitching and breath uneven as you uttered the words. You might have been some sort of hallucination he imagined to get through the countless gruelling days in Spain. You might have been a fragment of his dream. Who cares? You were still so utterly divine.

After all, you were his favourite girl. His best friend.

Sae didn't want to overstep; he really didn't. But if you didn't learn ruin from him, then someone else would have to teach you. And he knew he was too selfish for that.

One breath. Then, the second one. And on the third, you closed your eyes.

And his lips pressed against yours.

You never thought you would find yourself in this kind of situation.

Sure, younger you had eyes. Sae Itoshi was famous and handsome and rich, but he was off-limits. He was your neighbour. And after Sae moved in Spain for almost three years, you were much closer to Rin than the distant boy since he barely responded to your letters and calls.

Getting involved with Sae would be a betrayal to your dear neighbour and pseudo-son, Rin. You once thought. Sae was annoying anyway.

But then his lips pressed against yours like you were something delicate, and the faint taste of strawberries and honey sent thrills of warmth straight to your core; any semblance of restraint you had melted away, pressing yourself against him firmer—needier.

Then, you pulled away, just enough to peer down at him. His magenta locks were all frizzled up from the cushioning, and his cerulean gaze was half-lidded and fixed on yours.

No, more like on your lips.

"Did I?..." You start, but he cuts you off with a chuckle. "That was just a peck, idiot. Open your mouth."

You blinked.

His cold thumb pressed softly against your bottom lip, pushing the fullness down just enough to part your lips.

"Open your mouth," he whispered again, lower, against your lips. "It feels better this way, I promise."

A soft whine escaped your throat as he pressed his lips against yours again, shocks of electricity shooting down your spine and abdomen. His tongue swiped against yours once, something you assumed was like asking for permission, and your lips completely sealed around his, pressing yourself against him further.

Your hands scrabbled at the collar of his white T-shirt as his tongue prodded in the wet cavern of your mouth. It was gentle, like he was testing if you'd pull back. And when you whined, his tongue dragged slowly over yours, his hands tangling in your hair.

"Mmm—" Sae drawled into your mouth. "Is this okay?"

You panted, your breath mingling with his. "Yeah, yeah—Sae—it's good. Feels good."

"Yeah?" He seared his lips onto yours again, tongue webbing out to rub the roof of your mouth, sending sparks of heat down your stomach. He pulled back again in a quick haze, lips brushing against yours. "Feels good, hm?"

"Feels s'good; is it always this good?" You mewled, pecking his lips before flicking your tongue over his bottom lip, gasping when his mouth parted.

One of your hands gripped his collar, the other cupping the back of his head, tangling between his soft magenta locks. A gentle prick disturbed your bottom lip, caught between his teeth.

It stung a little. And in a normal context, it would even hurt. But it felt so good—so, so good when the sting came from him.

His lips then descended to pressing wet kisses down your jaw, all the way to the column of your neck.

You moaned quietly. His lips were hot—suffocatingly hot to the touch. Burning, like a fire had scorched your skin, but instead of pain, it was bliss.

You felt his lips curl into a faint smile against your warm skin as you craned your head back, exposing more of your neck. Soft groans escaped your throat, your fingers curling hard into his shirt.

His lips settled in the junction between your neck and shoulder, pressing a soft kiss before biting down. Harder than before.

"Sae!—"

"First time it felt this good for me too." He murmured against your skin, slowly thumbing your hips all the way up your waist. "You sure this is your first time?"

A slight flush crept up your neck, turning your head away from him. "You don't have to try and make me feel better, y’know…"

"M'being forreal." He tilted his head to the side, cerulean eyes filled with something you weren't quite used to—mirth. His gaze kept following yours even as you tried to look away. "Don't believe me?"

You pursed your lips sheepishly, your hands moving to rest over his shoulders. "Not really. But I— It's kinda hot in here, isn't it?"

Maybe it was his wet, full lips, or the fact that his lashes were so close you could count the endless, luscious hairs. Maybe it was the soft tingle in your core that tightened with each lingering touch of his hands.

Then, he lifted himself up before gently pushing you off his lap. "You're nervous; I get it. It's because you're on top of me."

He loomed over you, a playful twinkle in his eyes so faint you wouldn't catch on if he weren't your best friend. An annoying kid you forced to be your friend.

Naturally, you pushed yourself back until your back hit the cushions. Blinking up at Sae, who stopped himself short when you lay down, your hand tugged on the hem of his shirt.

You knew what that meant; so did Sae. A silent plea for something more than kissing. A silent prophecy that if he leant down, he wouldn't be able to get back up again.

Fucking Sae Itoshi, the idea of that was too surreal. You knew he had experience, that being a prodigy meant plenty of beautiful men and women threw themselves at his feet. You knew that he lived in an entirely different world from yours for five years, doing who knows what out there.

Still, you wanted him. You wanted him bad.

You frowned. "...Sae."

"This is going a bit far, don't you think?" He said, eyes averting from yours.

"I thought you wanted to."

"...I do."

"Then why are you hesitating?"

"I'm not supposed to touch you like this—"

"But you already have," you cut in. "Why are you acting like I'm some kind of... some kind of nun?"

"Pfft— You kinda are."

"That's not even true!"

"You are really innocent, sweetheart. It's not a bad thing."

You bristled. Sweetheart?

"Sae, c'mon," You tugged harder, watching his jaw clench. "Please."

He muttered. "Don't say that."

"Please."

You tugged on him a little harder, but this time, he let himself fall over you, hands bracing on each side of your head.

He pressed his lips against your forehead once, the action more intimate than you liked to admit. Like he was afraid of breaking you.

"You do know what you're asking for, right?" He whispered against your temple, carefully moving to the shell of your ear. "I don't wanna pressure you into anything."

"I—" You paused, trying to ignore the shivers trickling down your spine. "I want this."

"Are you sure?"

"Sae," you whined. Was he teasing you again? Your chin tilted to face him, your gaze softening at his unsure one. It was so uncharacteristic of him. Completely unlike the impassive boy you grew up with.

"M'sure."

"Okay," he nodded, cheek softly nuzzling against yours. "You're in charge then."

You weren't so sure what he meant, but your eyes shut and carefully found his lips. His kiss was slow and carnal, nose brushing the side of your own and large hands snaking around your waist. He squeezed you so softly, as if it were afraid of your departure, and held you close. So close that his breath felt like your own.

Your hips lifted to accommodate his hands, sliding to paw at your ass. His tongue gently prodded in the expanse of your mouth, darting around before stilling just at the tip of yours.

A noise of confusion escaped your throat as you scrunched his collar.

Sae hummed, laughing quietly against your mouth. "C'mon, kiss me too. You wanted this, right?"

The thought made you squirm beneath him, hands gripping tighter. He gently grasped your wrists and redirected them over his shoulders, coaxing you further.

"Wan' you." You whispered, arms wrapping around his neck. "I do wan' you."

Your lips reconnect, this time slipping into the cavern of his mouth and rolling your tongue against his. The wet friction sent shocks of electricity between your legs. Your tongue prodded behind his teeth before licking the roof of his mouth.

"Don't get shy on me now," he whispered. "Get your tongue deeper."

Your tongue pushed deeper at his words. So warm. So nasty. So fucking good.

He hummed, lips sensually following the pace of your own, hands grazing whatever he could touch. His tongue dragged over yours to poke your inner cheek, laughing when you whined and pulled him closer.

You pulled away breathlessly, only disrupted from his lips chasing yours into one last, searing kiss.

"Sae—" You gasped.

He gently pecked your lips. "Sorry. Got carried away."

You panted, temple pressed against his cheek as you caught your breath. Your thighs rubbed together from the hot ache between your legs, sparking with each fleeting second.

"You're wet, aren't you?"

Your head tilted up, your eyes widening at him. "What?"

Sae was breathless and debauched, his lips swollen and wet from your own, magenta hair dishevelled from your hands, almost revealing the baby bangs he liked to hide after turning sixteen.

"Here," two fingers shakily slipped past to press against your clothed pussy. "Feels good, right?"

You squirmed, fingers clasping around his wrist. "T-That feels good."

"You want me to help you?" He panted, softly thumbing your clothed slit. "You can say no."

"No— I mean, yes."

You paused, eyes darting to the sheets instead of his curious gaze. "...Do you have a condom?"

He was at your place, after all. And frankly, you were gravely underprepared for this kind of situation.

"Idiot," he laughed, fingers hooking into the waistband of your shorts. "We won't be needing that for a while."

The chill of the AC hit your skin when Sae tugged your shorts over your ankle, fingers smoothing over your clothed mound.

"Hm," he mused, tapping his index over the wet patch of your panties. "You're really wet."

His digits were twitching over your pussy, hooking beneath the edge of the cotton fabric. Like the urge to push your panties to the side was killing him.

A flush crept down your neck, gaze settling on the sheets. "No—No shit."

He made a noise somewhere between a scoff and a laugh, tapping over a particularly sensitive part of yours—one stationed above your hole, twitching when he rubbed it.

Your hips jolted at his touch, his index slowly circling the beady sweet spot. "Mm!—"

Then, his hand pulled away, moving to the curve of your ass. With a gentle tug, he hooked your panties' waistband down. "Up."

Your hips lifted as he tugged away the last remnant of privacy you had. Any semblance of comfort washed away from the cold air and his lingering gaze, the fabric hooking over the same ankle your shorts were.

"Hey, relax." Sae clicked his tongue when you squirmed, his warm hand moving to rest on your knee. "Eyes on me."

You tried to listen, focusing on his collarbones, his shirt, and fragments of his messy hair, but nothing worked. You couldn't meet his gaze, not when he stared at you so intently. Not when he could see every part of you. Not when his fingertips moved to press against your entrance.

Was this really what you imagined fucking Sae would be like? Not like you had imagined it or anything, just out of curiosity. He was never open about his personal life, but it was obvious that there was a side of him you've never seen. The weird phone calls. The weird disappearances. Hearing him curse and belittle others was the normal kind of crudeness you were used to with Sae. It was no doubt he was gentler with you—softer with you.

So to hear him be so blatantly vulgar?

He inched closer, lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

"You say you want me," he started. "Then you do shit like this."

It was bewildering.

You fiddled with your fingers before finally tilting your head to face him, swearing you saw the faintest hint of a smile when he dipped the tip of his middle finger inside.

"Mm, good."

Something like a whimper escaped from your lips, unaware that you were actually able to make those kinds of noises. "S-Shit."

His brows furrowed as his finger gently prodded at your entrance. "You're—" Sae bit his inner cheek pensively, stilling his digits. "You're a little too tight."

You winced, feeling your hole stretch around his finger. "I-It hurts."

He immediately withdrew his finger. "You've touched yourself before, right?"

"Um, yeah? Not really, like this—"

Sae smoothed his hand along the underside of your thigh—an attempt to soothe you. But his eyes were wide and... chiding? "Why didn't you tell me that before?"

"Okay, well, I don't know how this works!"

"Oh my god." He sighed before sitting back. "C'mere."

You chuckled nervously. "To do what?"

"To do it yourself," he chided. "C'mon."

That's when you found yourself in an embarrassingly exposed position, settled right on Sae's lap, his knees stationed right between yours, spreading your legs.

"Can't believe you wanted to fuck before even masturbating..." He murmured, chin hooked over your shoulder.

You swallowed thickly, head turning away. So vulgar. "It's not m'fault I didn't know."

"It's not your fault. Should've prepped you better."

You huffed softly. "So why do I have to do it?"

"Because," his hand gently clasped over your dominant hand's wrist, snaking it down your exposed abdomen. "There's no way someone at our age hasn't touched themselves before."

"I have. Just not..."

"Fingering?"

Your ears burnt. "It hurts."

"Because you're not relaxed or turned on enough." He brought your index finger to rest over your sensitive bud. "This is your clit. Feels good to almost any kind of touch. Be gentle with it."

You bit your inner cheek, watching his hand guide you to rub your clit in slow circles. "I know what a clit is."

"...Nice to know that's the only thing you've touched in the past nineteen years."

Your head snapped towards his. "Hey!"

He snickered, ignoring your huff. "So, if you want to cum..."

His lips ghosted over your ear, whispering softly. "Touch here. Rub there. Doesn't matter. But you could always..."

A soft whine escaped your throat as his hand guides you down further, stopping right at your entrance. "Make yourself feel good here."

Before you knew it, your middle finger was already dipping between your folds and inside your hole.

"Oh my god," you mumbled, brows furrowing. "Sae."

He hummed lowly. "Like that, go slow. It's good, hm?"

"S'good." you murmured, your finger now entirely inside.

"Feels even better when you curl your fingers."

Your brow twitched at his words, following curiously. "Wha... Okay."

His lips trailed down to the spot under your ear, kissing and sucking on the skin softly. "What do you usually think about when you touch yourself?"

His hand tapped the back of your own as you panted. "You."

It came out quicker than you expected, and in all honesty, it didn't even register properly from all the haze. But it was weird that after every call, every time you met Sae, you couldn't help touching yourself later that night.

It was something about his drawled voice, or the contour of his skin, or the flawlessness of his lashes or the chisel of his jaw. Or maybe it was his body, sculpted from divinity itself?

His breath hitched at your admission, fingers twitching over your hand.

You whined, pulling your finger out to push it back inside, curling to hit a sweet spot that made your toes curl. "I always think of you."

Something stiff throbbed against your ass cheek.

Your breath caught in your throat. Then, he bit down on your neck. Harder. "Ow—"

Sae seared your lips in a fervent kiss—all tongue and teeth and the intimate squeeze of your waist. He drank down every noise you made, panting against your mouth, swirling his tongue along yours.

"Let me help you," he panted, shaky fingers moving to gently pinch your clit. "Need to help you."

You moaned into his mouth, hips jolting from his touch. "S-Sae."

"Two fingers, you can do that, right?"

Swallowing thickly, you panted over his lips as he pecked you. "Mm—"

"C'mon," he muttered, pressing wanton kisses down your jaw. "Gonna make you feel s'good."

You pressed your ring finger to your entrance, pushing in slowly, wincing. "Hurts, Sae."

"Shh," he hushed against your cheek. "You can take it."

His index and middle rubbed against your puffy clit in a desperate side-to-side motion. Brows twitching with each passing second, he panted heavily. Your hips lifted in shock, fingers instinctively curling inside you.

Oh, you hit that good spot. It was spongy and rigid and oh so sweet.

You moaned, head thrown back over his shoulder. "Ah..."

"That's—" he sputtered, fingers continuing their relentless attack. "That's your g-spot. Should feel different from the rest of ya. Should feel really good."

Wet noises filled the room as you pistoned your fingers in and out of your hole, bracing yourself atop your best friend. Even though he was talking in your ear, breathy and hot as he always did, nothing registered. Every sense you had was being replaced by the overwhelming sensation of sweet bliss, your jaw slack and eyes shut.

"Curl your fingers more. Yeah, like that, deeper. Shit, you're—"

You whimpered, hips jerking as he continued to rub and roll your clit. "Sae, think m'gonna do that thing where I... F-Fuck."

He let out a quiet whine against your shoulder. "You are?"

"Y-Yeah, aren't y-you supposed to be the expert?"

"Sh— Shut up."

Just as something hot and unbelievably euphoric was about to snap, his fingers pulled away, panting harshly over your shoulder.

You huffed, your brain foggy. "Wha... Why?

"Not yet," he muttered. "Not yet."

Before you knew it, he flipped you onto your back, hovering over you. "You sure this is your first time masturbating?"

He pecked your lips, descending to your chest, pressing soft kisses to your clothed nipples and down your stomach. "You're pretty good at it."

"Pretty good?" you murmured, jolting every time he kissed your stiffening buds. "Thank you?"

His low-lidded gaze flitted down to your drenched slit, lips spasming at the sight.

You frowned as he settled between your thighs. "Sae, no."

"No more?"

"No," you shook your head, hand scrambling to tug at his collar. "I didn't do anything for you."

"...You don't need to."

You huffed, spotting the tent in his sweats. "Don't lie."

"M'being serious," he grabbed your hand, pressing a hot kiss to your palm. "I want to do this."

You sputtered at his words, embarrassed that he was inching so close to your bare pussy. Panting, you whined. "Do what?"

"Eat you out."

"What? Oh my god, that is so—" you stammered. "So embarrassing!"

His hands smoothed over your inner thighs, spreading them apart. "No, it's not."

"Yes it is. Sae, get up!"

He huffed as you pulled at his collar again, his sigh blowing warm air over your wet folds, making you yelp.

"How about this?" He reached for the blanket urged aside. "You see a blanket instead of me. Way better, right?"

You huffed. "You say that like I don't want to see you..."

"Isn't that what that is?"

"I don't want you to see me!"

"But you're so pretty." He pressed a kiss right on your clit, making you jolt. "And so sweet."

Your ears burnt as he pressed another kiss on your slit and another on your entrance.

"Okay, okay. We'll use the blanket."

"Alright," he hummed, pressing one last kiss to your clit again.

"Fun."

It was weird, feeling the ghost of his breath but only seeing a broad figure under your blanket.

Your legs were spread over his shoulders, thighs marked with soft kisses and bites Sae spent minutes on perfecting, murmuring something almost biblical to himself.

Then, you felt his fingers spread your lips in a V-shape, letting your head fall back on the cushions.

One breath.

Then, the second.

And on the third, still, nothing came.

"What are you doing down there?!" You whined, heel digging into his defined back.

You were only met with silence, but from the hot wave of air, you knew he was annoyed.

You scrunched your nose. So typical of him.

Then, he spoke from under the blanket. Low and teasing. "Your clit is all puffy."

"...What?"

He leaned down, pressed his lips to the bud and whispered. "And you smell s'good."

Then, his tongue licked a slow strip from your weeping hole all the way to your sensitive bud. The entirely new sensation washing over you in ways you could never imagine, your teeth catching your bottom lip.

"Oh, fuck. Sae..." Your hand reached under the blanket, tangling in his magenta locks.

His tongue slowly swirled around your clit, switching to softer kitten licks, slowly bobbing his head. You whined, thighs clamping around his head. "Ah— t'much!"

Your thighs squeezed shut around his head, so close that your knees grazed each other and the sweat from his hair smeared against your thighs. Sae huffed and wrapped his lips around your sensitive bud, slurping it into his mouth harshly.

You moaned sweetly, cheek pressing against the cushioning. "F-Fuck!"

Finally, you loosened up enough for him to catch your thighs off guard. His fingers dug into the plushness and pushed them apart, all the way until your knees hit the cushions.

"Too much?" Sae hummed, spitting into your messy hole. "You're so dramatic."

Dramatic? He was the one seriously overwhelming you!

His tongue webbed out, swirling around your entrance before licking up your folds. Spreading your labia with his tongue in a firm, upward lick, soothing the fold with soft, barely-there kisses.

Then, he sealed his mouth over your entire pussy.

"Sae," you whimpered, fingers pulling his hair in warning. "Don't even think about it."

A soft huff vibrated against your folds, his snicker evident. His thumb gently rubbed your thigh like some kind of apology. Then, he sucked your pussy in one, harsh motion.

"Oh my god—" you cried, thighs struggling to close against his strong grip. "C-Can't!"

"Mm," he murmured against your folds, his tongue moving to swirl around your entrance again, the tip gently prodding its way inside. "You can."

Your fingers sharply pulled at his hair. "S-Sae!"

He grumbled, the vibrations sending tremors into your pussy. "Stop movin'."

"Can't," your eyes squeezed shut when his tongue pushed in, firmly licking your sweet spot. "Sae, I c-can't."

Sae's tongue withdrew, soothing your pussy with wet, apologetic kisses, lips pressing over your inner thighs. "Why? What's wrong?"

You panted, fingers still gripping his hair. "...I told you I can't."

"Can't what?" he hummed, thumb reaching to rub your clit in slow circles. "Cum?"

"Cum." Your cheeks burnt at the word. "No, I do wanna cum."

He panted harsh breaths against your thigh and pussy, the oxygen levels decreasing by the minute under the blanket. "You're pissing me off. You say wanna cum, but you can't take it?"

"H-How is that my fault?"

He grabbed the edge of the blanket, pulling it aside. His bangs were all sweaty and pushed back over the rest of his hair. Sweat beaded at his temples, some reaching down his neck.

And his lips quivered, his entire mouth drenched with your wet slick, smeared over his cheeks and nose. Sae huffed lowly, cerulean gaze focused on the cushions, catching his breath. "M'going as slow as I can."

"I-I'm trying to keep up with you."

He scoffed. "...Yeah 'course you are."

You huffed. "I don't like your attitude."

"Okay then," he retorted, eyes threatening to roll. "So stay still. I'm not using a blanket this time."

Your breath hitched as he settled between your legs again, fingers tracing circles over your hips.

"And," he hummed. "M'not letting you hide."

Before you could process what that meant, he steadied his hands over your hips and flipped you onto your stomach. You could only see the open window from this view. Not Sae. Not a blanket. Nothing.

Your feet kicked squeamishly, though it didn't help much. "Wait!— This is so embarrassing—"

His lips found the seam between your thigh and ass, pressing a soft kiss to the warm skin. "Hn, stop squirming."

"How can I?" You buried your face in your hands. "You can literally see everything and I wanna die—"

You were cut off with a soft moan, his thumbs spreading your lips to slurp up your dripping hole, tongue prodding into your hole. His fingers dug into your ass cheeks, groping it harsher—needier.

"Fuck," he groaned softly, kissing down your folds until he found your sensitive bud. He sealed his lips around it before sucking fervently, noises growing as you squirmed. "Fuck, fuck. You taste s'good."

He almost growled into your cunt, moving to press kisses to your ass cheeks, softly biting down on the flesh.

Your hand wrings back to grab at him—his shirt, his shoulder—to be met with a firm hand clasping your wrist. He pinned it to the couch as he leaned down again, lapping his tongue over and over at your clit.

He was breathing—panting so hard that his exhaling puffed air into your hole. "S-Sae!" You moaned softly into the cushioning. "Oh my god—Sae!"

Something warm tightened in your abdomen. It was hot and electric and aching to explode, just like the times when you'd touch yourself, but this was much more. So much more.

You panted into the cushions, soft moans and whines escaping you as he ate your pussy. He was relentless; he always was, but this was a different kind. Sae could do anything, say anything, but when he promised you pleasure and brought you heaven?

Holy shit, it was too much that you could go crazy any second now.

"Let me tell you somethin'," he broke your thoughts, murmuring as his tongue slid out of your hole. "When you feel something so good you think you'll go crazy. Say you're cummin'."

"I-I know what that is."You whined, seeing that sort of language in the porn you read and watched, but not exactly knowing when to use it. "I think."

He muffled a scoff against your cunt, switching to long, firm licks up your entire pussy. "Wow. Genius over here."

You felt the warmth spread down your stomach to your thighs and cunt and clit and everywhere, fingers clawing into the cushioning. "Okay! Okay, I'm... M'cummin!"

You could feel his brow quirk, lips ghosting over your clit. "You're what?"

You were close, so close to the pressure releasing. But now, your cheeks were burning because Sae couldn't help but bully you about sex language. "I'm... I'm—"

He smiled against your pussy, the curve faint but there, and wrapped his lips around your bud one last time, flattening his tongue and sucking harshly—so harsh you could see stars.

"M'cummin'!"

White dots skewed your vision, and you swore you had died just now, but the pressure released, getting licked softly from Sae's tongue.

But oh, it still felt so good after you came, grinding onto his wet muscle. "Ah, Sae..."

His tongue stilled as you ground on his face, fingers digging into your ass cheeks harder. "Now's the time you get eager?"

"Sh— Shut up." You whined as he freed your wrist. "Oh my god."

He began to lap again, a little softer but pleasing against your puffy clit. "Mm," he hummed. "You came this time."

"I already told you— I know what that is—"

He slurped your clit into his mouth, the sensation all too overwhelming for your current senses. "Ah!"

"I know you know. Just telling you." Sae said, pressing one last gentle kiss to your bud before pulling away.

You panted against the cushions, only now realising the drool pooling in your mouth. Your ass was still perched in the air, your whole body dripping from sweat.

Sae swallowed thickly at the sight, his own erection throbbing against the cushions.

He didn't want to overstep; he really didn't. Sae was your best friend. Someone your mom entrusted to you. Someone you'd watch romance anime with. Someone who purposely didn't laugh at your jokes, just to see you get angry,

But you tasted so fucking sweet. Your noises were so pretty, so alluring. He'd have to die before leaving his place between your legs.

And you kept arching like it was his responsibility to teach you. Touch you. Make you cum over and over until you couldn't think of anyone else but him.

And maybe as your best friend, the boy you knew since you were in diapers?

It was.

"One more." His hand moved to grope your ass cheeks again, flipping you onto your back. "Give me one more. I know you can. Just one more."

"Wha?... Sae." You whined, so clearly fucked out, not even bothering to glance at him.

"You can do it," he whispered, leaning down to press several shaky kisses to your wet folds.

"For me. C'mon."

BONUS!

The summer after you graduated high school, you found yourself back at home in Kamakura. The weather was scorching, sweat beading down your neck as you stared at the ceiling. Your feet were perched over the side of your bed, back pressed against your cool floor.

"Did you finish?" you murmured, eyes fixed on the ceiling. Sitting on the floor against your bed was Sae, who had come back from Madrid to spend the summer with family. Frankly, in the past three weeks he had been here, he had not spent one day with his family.

Well, maybe aside from his mom, but everyone liked Mrs Itoshi. Besides her, he always had some lame excuse to work out, go on a jog, meet someone, go to Tokyo, or spend time with you.

You didn't mind, really. It just meant summers were meant for Sae.

"Shut up, m'almost done." He said, checking off the boxes on his phone. He wore a black T-shirt, legs crossed in a pair of basketball shorts, accentuating the muscles he had been gaining over the past few years.

Was it weird to stare?

Your head tilted faintly, settling on his concentrated face. He had been getting pretty good-looking recently, a little more than you'd like to admit. Since last year, he's been pushing his bangs back. His bangs were cute—almost childlike, but him with this new style... It certainly brought out his blessed facial structure and his lashes. Also, the glowiness of his skin—

Oh my god, ew, that sounds so dick hungry.

And that was certainly not towards Sae Itoshi.

"Done," Sae tilted his phone towards you, a bright red sixty-four illuminating from his screen.

"What the fuck have you been doing in Spain?" You immediately propped yourself up, snatching his phone. "A rice purity of sixty-four?"

He shrugged. "Why would I tell you?"

"Last year when you came back, it was like, an eighty-seven."

"Things change."

"Whore."

Sae rolled his eyes, taking his phone back. "You'll get there one day."

You scrunched your nose as he petted your hair—outwardly affectionate, but you knew he was being annoying.

"I don't wanna be like you." You swat his hand away. "I am totally okay with my ninety-two. Totally okay."

He stared at you blankly. "...Riiight."

You whined, sighing. "Maybe I'm not, but will that day come any sooner?"

"Y'know, in order to get some, you have to...put yourself out there. Talk to people. Flirt."

"Oh, fuck off," you reached to pinch his side, grinning when he groaned.

"You're too old to be doing this."

"We're eighteen, dumbass."

He grumbled, efficiently moving four feet away from you. "Wonder who your first kiss is gonna be, or somethin'. I feel bad for him."

Then, Sae groaned again when you threw a pillow at his face.

You roll onto your back in defeat, throwing an arm over your eyes. Even with the fan on, you're still sweating buckets. So, when a cool breeze drifts in from the open window, a more delighted sigh leaves you... until it's gone again!

You sit up, opening your eyes to find that the breeze's blockage is none other than... your boyfriend!?

"Ichigo, what're you doing on my windowsill...?" You laugh exasperatedly.

"Wanted to pay you a visit,"He shrugs.

As the ginger steps into your room, you lazily shuffle over to hug him. He smells like antiseptic and something musky that's just strangely him. Warm like always, too, Ichigo wraps his arms back around you on instinct.

"Bored or tired?"

"What?" You look up.

"Are you bored or tired? You were just kinda laying there, so I figured it was one of the two," He explains.

"Bored," Your groan, dropping your forehead against his chest with a thump.

That makes him laugh a little, soft and gentle, "Do you... wanna go out somewhere?"

You nod a lazy "Mhmm," and he laughs, just a tiny bit, again, "Lemme put on something cute, first."

You can hear the smile in his "okay".

Now, with Ichigo patiently waiting in the hallway; you've adorned yourself with some heart-embroidered jean shorts, a cute light blue top, some sandals, and an adorable swimsuit underneath.

You're standing in front of the mirror, but something feels off. You love this outfit, you really do, it's just...something's missing... :(

Jewelry! You go to your vanity, sliding open a drawer to- "Ahh!"

Ichigo bursts in at the sound of your scream, immediately going straight to check on you, "What happened, are you okay!?"

"Kon's wearing my jewelry!"

Now he's confused, "Kon's what...?"

"He's wearing my jewelry!" You fret, gesturing to the open drawer in front of you.

Sure enough, there's an annoying little lion plush, with your necklaces and bracelets draped all over him. :/

"What are you doing here?" Ichigo grabs him, "At least, you should be in my desk!"

"Thought you might need help!" Stiff sewn arms gesture wildly.

"With what, I'm trying to spend the day with my favorite person!" Ichigo rolls his eyes and just barely keeps himself from throwing Kon out your window, "Go home, back to my house."

You can't help but giggle as he drops the toy on the outside of your window to trudge back to an equally as sweaty house, all your jewelry given back.

You slide a few bracelets over either wrist, and nag Ichigo to help you get a necklace or two on. He doesn't quite move his hands from the clasp though, gawking at your reflection, while you look over your outfit.

"You okay?" You reach up and back to hold his cheek, tilting your head to look at him and not his reflection.

"M-" His voice cracks a little, you find it cute, and he clears his throat, "Mhm..., you look really good."

You can't help the giddy smile that echoes his when you let out a chaste giggle. You lean up for a smiley kiss, nearly stumbling from the angle. When you pull away, you're both still smiling.

"So, what's your game plan, Ichi?" You turn to face him properly and tuck a strand of hair behind his ear.

"A walk? Shopping, beach? Maybe ice cream, too?"

"Window shopping or no? 'Cause... we're both kinda broke," That makes him chuckle.

"Yes, window shopping, babe," Ichigo takes your hand, grabs your bag for you, and leads you to the front door to leave in a more orderly fashion than he entered.

Your walk is nice, the sidewalk is clear, the breeze keeps you cool, and you two are hand-in-hand like the cutest couple ever... until the bushes rustle.

"What's that sound?" You look around.

"Probably just a squirrel or somethin'," Ichigo kisses your temple to soothe your worries.

The bushes shake again, more, "There it is again!"

"I'm sure it's- "You both stop in your tracks as none other than Kon comes waddling out onto the sidewalk.

Ichigo sighs and groans, "I thought I told you to go back home!"

"It seems I wanted to go on a walk, too!" Kon shrugs with a fake smile of innocence.

"Take a walk back home and let me enjoy my day!" Ichigo sees right through Kon and ushers him back into the woods, "Sorry 'bout that. Plaza's right there, wanna look around?"

You nod, peeking at tops and bottoms, swimsuits and hair clips, and books, and he takes note of anything that makes you light up even a little extra. Don't expect him to be empty-handed next time he visits, lol.

You're holding hands as you smile down the sidewalk, spotting an ice cream stand not too far away.

"Ichigo!" You beam up at him, making your purse smack his arm when you grab it and get all close to his face.

"What's up?" He smiles down at you.

You nod your head to the direction of the sweet treat.

"Ah, you want ice cream?" Your face says it all, he pauses a second before taking his wallet out from his jeans pocket to dig out a very crumpled bill, "I'm so glad I saved some allowance."

You happily skip down to the tiny little food truck-style stand with him.

"Get whatever you want," Ichigo hums as you approach.

You lean over a bit to peak at the flavors while another customer pays and- "Kon!"

He's uh- face down in the vanilla, and when he looks up at the sound of his name, he looks like that one meme of a kitten covered in her formula.

"Seriously, cut this shit out!" Ichigo exclaims from behind you, "Go clean yourself up before you mold!"

"Can't get to the beach by myself," Kon crawls onto the counter.

"The beach? A sink would-"

"We can take you with us!"You smile.

"Huh!?" Both Ichigo and Kon question in synce.

"Yeah, we're headed there next!"

After happily enjoying your ice cream with Kon dripping melting ice cream, you warp him in napkins and tuck him in an outside pocket of your purse. You take care of your trash, finding an appropriate place to get rid of it, before taking Ichigo's hand and dragging him off towards the beach.

Upon picking a spot, barely far enough from the shore to not get wet, he pulls out a towel from... who knows where.

You kick off your sandals, pluck Kon out of your purse, and run over to plop him in the water. Ichigo chuckles as he follows after you.

You feel his strong arms wrap around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder, "I can't tell if you like him or not."

"He's okay when he's not annoying," You hum, watching the lion plush splash around.

"So... never?"

You both laugh softly. He pulls off his shirt, then his normal shorts to reveal swim shorts of the same exact color underneath🤦‍♀️ while you pull off your clothes to expose your swimsuit as well.

Ichigo guides you into the water, only being waist deep while sitting down, and splashing each other for a wghile.

The air is warm like your chests, sunlight catching handsomely in his hair.

After some much needed teenage playfulness, you're cuddling into his side on top of the mystery towel.

Kon's distant screams of being chased by terrifying crabs slowly drown out as the two of you drift off, into a sandy nap.

Soft, tiny hands shake your head until your eyes crack open, a ringing phone accompanying the ocean's song.

"Yer phone's ringin'!" Kon notifies you.

"Thanks, we couldn't tell," Ichigo replies dryly.

"Well, you were sleepin'!" He argues back as you check the caller ID.

It's your dad, but why would he be calling from work-

"Shit!"

He got home, and you're not there, and it's almost dark-

You better hurry!

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He's still in his pajamas, rubbing at his eyes and stifling a yawn, even with his jaw already half-open. You expect him to head to the sink to brush his teeth, but your eyes narrow when he makes a beeline towards the shower.

"Xavier," you draw out slow, hands on your hips, playfully glaring at him through the glass. "You know bathroom rule #1."

He pouts at the reminder of the law you'd set into stone over a year ago, when your shared shower time in his apartment one morning made you both over an hour late to work.

If today was a day off, you may let yourself be swayed by those big, wet, pleading blue eyes (that he knew what he was doing with, dammit). But your phone on the marble counter top has another alarm locked and loaded, for when you were getting dangerously close to missing your train if you weren't already on the way to the station.

Xavier's brows turn up in that adorable innocent (lying! deceitful bunny!!) way that still makes your heart skip a beat and swell, even though you know much, much better.

"There's no time for separate showers."

You arch an eyebrow in disbelief, and he pulls his phone out of his pocket, showing you that time was, in fact, cut short this morning.

You had both stayed up late last night trying to beat another dungeon in your favorite MMORPG. A mistake in hindsight that led to you both crashing onto the bed at 2am after your joint victory, hardly even snuggled up as you both were out in an instant.

"Euuugh fine." He's already hopping out of one leg of his pants as soon as you say it, phone next to yours on the counter. His soft sleep shirt hits the floor the moment he's stepping in behind you, and you laugh fondly. "Be good," you chastise in advance.

"Mm, I always am," he says serenely, and you tsk, already about half-certain that you wouldn't be on time now.

Much to your surprise, though, he actually is. Sure, his fingers brush against all your soft curves whenever he reaches for your favorite body wash (you were almost out again, the sweet, handsome bastard), but he dutifully cleans himself up and lets you rinse the shampoo out of your hair in peace.

You can almost ignore the fact that he's half-hard behind you.

That is, until his arms snake around your waist, making it very well-known.

"Xavier," you warn affectionately.

He just hums as he pulls you into his embrace, chin resting on your damp shoulder.

When you steal a glance, the pour of the water overhead has his hair completely covering his eyes. You brush it away tenderly, and melt when you see how soft his gaze is.

"I'll be good. Just wanted to hold you." He presses a chaste kiss to your shoulder, then your neck. "Didn't get to last night, and you were already gone when I woke up." You soften when he adds quietly under his breath, "I don't like waking up without you."

Then Xavier nestles his face into your neck, and you squeak, shivering and giggling at the brush of his stubble against your skin.

He hadn't gotten a chance to shave yet, but since it grew in light, he could get by without doing it for a while. He'd probably have to skip this morning, and you secretly wish he'd be too lazy to do it for a few more days. You loved the feel of it, scraping pleasantly against your sensitive skin when his face was down between your—

"You're thinking of something dirty," Xavier accuses in a low tone. You hear the smirk in his voice before you see it (the so damn smug asshole god you loved him), matching that tempting glimmer of mischief in his eyes.

You turn in his arms, his large palms settling on your hips from reflex to steady you. With your hands behind your back, you lean up on your tiptoes, watching the light spark in his careful eyes. The gentleness darkens, and you bite your lip, letting him get close until he's right—

He jumps with a gasp as you lightly smack your hands you'd been hiding into his hair, shampoo splashing.

"Keep it to yourself, big guy," you tease as you lather the soap into his hair.

Xavier's head tilts back with a hum, eyes rolling back just from the sensation of your nails digging into his scalp. "Big guy?" he tries to joke at the unfamiliar nickname, as breathless as he sounds from your simple affection of washing his hair.

"Well."

You send a pointed look below his slender waist and the delicious V line of his hips, and he peeks an eye open to watch you with a grin.

"Hm?"

You ruffle his wet hair on purpose, causing his eyes to fly shut so he wouldn't get shampoo in them.

"Silence, horn dog!" you exclaim, laughing with him at your grand declaration. "There will be no sex on this morn."

"Why are you talking like that?"

"Isn't that how you talked on Philos?" you teased, taking the showerhead and cupping your hand over his eyes, keeping the stream of water from going into them as you rinse his hair. "Oh Crown Prince of Philos, Grandis Knight, Starhunters prefect—"

"Stop that."

"Oh, Crown Prince!" you repeat yourself, this time in a high, breathy moan. His lips tilts up into a disbelieving grin, and you giggle through your wanton moans, "Oh, you fill me up so grandly on this fine eve, Grandis Knight—"

"You exaggerate, but you're louder than this when I'm inside of you."

You nearly drop the showerhead, mouth agape.

Xavier peeks one eye open again, then the other, smirking as he effortlessly turns the tables on you once again.

"Shut up!" you whine, flustered, turning away to return the showerhead to its spot. "Clean yourself, then, you cocky bastard!"

His hands slide around your waist, tugging you back into him and keeping you steady. You playfully wrestle back, careful not to slip on the wet shower tile, even as you know he'd never let you fall.

"I promised you, didn't I?" His lips press affectionate, chaste kisses up your neck. He nibbles on your ear, and you shiver with a squeal, smacking his shoulder. "I'll be good."

"And you're literally hard against my back right now," you shoot back, even as you settle back into his arms.

90% chance of being late.

"Not my fault," he whines petulantly, rubbing his wet cheek against yours. Like a damn cat marking its territory, and you giggle. You hear his pout when he teases, "If you want, I'll just take care of it when you get out."

You huff, suddenly hot all over at the imagery of his hand wrapped around himself; hot and heavy, leaking and panting, moaning your name under his breath like he just can't help it as you stand at the counter to finish getting ready for work.

99% now.

"Don't say that," you mutter, squirming restlessly, breath hitching when the brush of your bare ass against his erection makes him grunt. "I'll be wet all day."

"I'll be good," he breathes into your ear again, fingers drawing circles on your inner thigh, trailing up.

Your head tilts back onto his shoulder, laughing breathlessly.

"But you promised you'd—"

"I didn't," he corrects you, his kisses turning open-mouthed on your jaw, your shoulder. "Just said I'd be good. Isn't taking care of you being good?"

He really must be a Crown Prince, because only royalty could be so good at playing with their words.

"This is why we have the rule," you murmur, grinding back into him.

"I like breaking the rules with you," he whispers, hips moving in time with yours, and you take a deep breath, releasing it with a fond laugh.

100%. Fuck it.

"You're so bad," you whisper, grinning when you feel him twitch against you. You place your hands against the wet tile of the wall, legs spread, hips pressed back against him. His nails dig into your hips, and you sigh when you feel him begin to slip it in. "So good. Make it quick."

Over half an hour of mind-numbing pleasure later and you both end up fifteen minutes late to work, but you're glowing.

You also have a mark shaped suspiciously like Xavier's teeth on the base of your neck. Nearly hidden by your collar, but not quite.

But you won't know that until later, when you make bathroom rule #2: when you break rule #1, make it quick(er) and don't leave bites!

ii. case two : rooftop roughhousing

you think you’re so intelligent.

lunch break & you’re on the school rooftop with a skip in your step. you dragged suna rintarou away from his teammates during lunch & now he trails behind you with hands in his pockets as you hop unto the railing.

thighs crossed. hair in the wind. lopsided grin with blood drenched cheeks & eyes star-achingly bright. “tell me you love me.”

he’s rolling his eyes but his palms find your thighs. “i love you.”

you pout. “say it like you mean it.”

he kisses your neck instead.

you squeal, dodging suna’s kisses as he chases your lips with a grin. he pulls away teasingly before you tug him in by the tie.

you don’t hear the door unlock behind you.

rintarou’s tongue licks your molars. you kiss at his teeth & his thumb grazes your inner thigh as you giggle between his lips. he mutters something about how your gloss tastes like home before a voice sends a jolt down your spine:

“OUT.”

the home room teacher with obnoxious clipboard in hand & outfit desperate to align with the office siren aesthetic. you cling to suna as he quickly lifts you off the railing, palm still gripping your skirt even when he sets you on the ground.

busted.

★ Y/N L/N ⎯⎯ STUDENT RECORD.

offense: INAPPROPRIATE RELATIONS IN RESTRICTED AREA

punishment: detention.

issued by: madam keqing, homeroom teacher.

‘such behavior is not tolerated on school grounds. should this happen again, parents will be notified immediately.’

iii. case three : security snitching

suna’s tapping your thighs like it’s morse code for ‘mine.’

5PM thursday / behind the school gym / your fingers & suna’s belt loop. the middle blocker’s especially hungry today. god knows that thursdays mean you don’t get to share a single class with the athlete; so on days like this when school is long closed & you think no one’s watching he kisses you like he can’t fucking breathe.

point of empasis: you think no one’s watching.

the security camera overhead gets a front row seat to your antics. suna says your gloss spoils in the heat so you lick him off your wrist like honey. he’s pressing you against the wall with teeth on your earlobe like if he bites a little more you’ll seep into his skin. you let him unbutton your shirt & kiss you till he’s love-drunk & bleary eyed.

friday morning starts off in the vice-principal’s office.

black & white images neatly printed on the desk, a fan that blows just loud enough to cover up your feet tapping. you’re mortified. suna’s fingers, however, drum on your thigh like he’s not in trouble for kissing you silly on a midsummer day.

“what do you have to say for yourselves?”

“crazy work.”

you pinch him under the table. you don’t miss the grin that tugs at his lips as he takes a good look at the photos.

“interesting response, mr.suna,” the vice-principal’s eyes narrow. without them leaving suna he continues, “and ms. l/n ? i expect better from you. both your parents will be notified.”

you’re about to apologize & plead on your behalves, but suna notices the worry in your eyes & beats you to the punch.

“wait,” he clears his throat. “i have an explanation.”

“yes?”

“we’re in love.”

he says it like it’s the cure to all your problems. you resist the urge to slap him (and yourself).

“thank you, you are both dismissed. and again, your parents will be notified.”

busted.

again.

★ Y/N L/N ⎯⎯ STUDENT RECORD.

offense: EXPLICIT BEHAVIOR ON SCHOOL PROPERTY

punishment: parent report issued, two-day detention and required report on student ethics.

issued by: mr. ayato, vice principal.

‘inarizaki high makes it a point to ensure student safety by strictly prohibiting sexual or explicit acts on the premises. we hope ms.l/n will heed our warnings, regardless of whether or not she is “in love.”

STUDENT CASE STATUS : CLOSED.

Rafayel groans from the floor beside your bed, eyes shut and both arms curled protectively around his stomach. "God, cutie," he slurs, eyes shut. "Is this how you greet all your late night visitors? No wonder you're still single.." He pushes his face into your carpet stretching out a groan, curling in on himself in an attempt to make him seem more pitiful (or he's actually in that much pain. You feel a hint of guilt twist at the bottom of your stomach). He doesn't seem to realise the last sentence slipped out, or register the rapidly-fading glower you're directing his way.

"Rafayel!" you snap, body relaxing at the same time as your embarrassment rises from the sight of his familiar face. You kneel down beside him with a heaving sigh, watching as the errant moonlight that's escaped through your blinds falls on Rafayel's features, pouring gently over the pale skin. His collarbones are exposed to the air of your room, his shirt half-unbuttoned. The crisp light makes them seem sharper than usual. You stop yourself from reaching out and tracing their shadow.

You blink, dragging your gaze back up to his eyes, which are slightly open now but cloudy. There's something amused in his gaze, something that tells you he knows exactly what you're stopping yourself from doing. When the white of his teeth glints in the moonlight as he starts to smirk, you know an overly cocky, supremely aggravating and - no matter how much you deny it - not entirely false comment is about to spoken. You cut him off before he can say anything.

"What are you doing here? I told you that the spare key was only for emergencies." You push some anger into your voice, as much as you can without making it obvious to Rafayel that you're trying to distract him and disturbing your neighbours further.

Rafayel has no such qualms and a drunk fish is much more easily distracted. "It was an emergency!" He says it at a normal volume but in the stillness of the night, it sounds like he's yelling it. You hurry to shush him with a finger to his lips but he turns his head away from your hand, returning your glare with one of his own, albeit a pouty one. "I couldn't find my house." He mumbles and you snort. This time, he shushes you, reaching an arm up to clumsily press a finger to your lips. "Don't laugh..."

You grab his wrist loosely and speak against his finger. He shudders, eyes going half-lidded but you aren't sure why. "What do you mean you couldn't find your house? You couldn't find yours but you could find mine?"

Alcohol and embarrassment causing a pink flush to spread over his cheeks and his gaze drifts away from your face. "Your address is burned into my mind, cutie. It was the only thing I could think of when the driver asked where he should take me." The last dredges of your annoyance melt with the statement and after a second of hesitation, you decide that it's far too late at night and you are way too on edge to deal with the ramifications of that statement.

He doesn't let you say anything else before he's pushing himself up on to his elbows and then wobbling his way back upright. Your hands reach out automatically to steady him, but he bats your efforts away. You stand with him and raise an eyebrow, as if to ask, 'what now?'

Before you can blink, he falls forward, straight into you, sending the both of you crashing backwards on top of the soft bed in a bundle of limbs, an aborted scream and loud, drunken laughter that you will definitely get complaints about from your neighbours in the morning.

His face is right above yours, his entire body weight resting on you. He grins wide and smug, eyes glinting with exasperating glee. You tense up for a minute, getting ready to shove him off, but instead you find your body going lax. He seems as shocked by your actions as you are, but not upset, if the way the grin stretches wider, so wide it seems painful, is any indication.

You flick his forehead in vengeance and he yelps, eyes going alert. "Ow! Cutie!" You laugh, though it's more of a cackle and finally push him off of you, though he whines like a spoiled kid when you do, fingertips resting on your waist for as long as possible. The whine is abruptly cut off by a another yelp when you grab his foot and start trying to yank his shoe off without undoing the laces. "What are you doing? Stop trying to take advantage of me!"

"I'm taking off your dirty shoes!" You tug his foot back towards you when he tries to pull it away. "If anything, this is princess treatment!"

"Excuse you," he sniffs, resting his feet in your lap. "My shoes are pristine. I think they're cleaner than your bed - hey! Those are expensive!" You chuck the other shoe at the wall the same way you did the first one, despite his gasp of indignation.

"Nothing about you right now is pristine, but I think if I tried to get you to take a shower, you'd find a way to drown under the spray."

"You'd probably drown me yourself," he mutters, then reaches to grab your arm and pull you back up against his side.

He's warm. You hope he doesn't notice your face heat up, burning into his skin.

"Rafayel -"

"Stay." He asks - no, he orders - his tone almost offended that you thought there was another option.

On any other night you'd put up more of argument. You'd probably win it too, after about twenty minutes of pointing out every reason that this is a bad idea. But tonight, you're tired. The initial panic that started when he flopped down on to you has given way to lethargy, and you wouldn't really mind laying down beside someone who makes you feel safe and sleeping for a solid eight hours.

He smells of something overwhelming sugary with an aftertaste that stings your nose when you bury your face in his fancy silk shirt. The weight of his arm draped over your body is reassuring. You'll probably regret this when you wake up. He might too, but right now, it's enough to hold him close and let him move you around so he can press his face into your neck instead and lull you into sleep with his talk about how good you'd be as his personal hot water bottle.

a/n: do i talk enough about how much i love him i really dont think i do. im always talking about zayne but rafayel is just me in a male body and fictional. by maining rafayel. you main via. does anyone else think about the malcolm toddism of fishvia i do i always do dear rafayel i miss you so much please fall in love with me and hate me forever too me and my block of pixels have a very complex relationship. also the first part where u think there's an intruder is my april fools ok?

as always reblogs, like BUT ESPPPP reblogs with tags and comments are appreciated. pls talk i promise im not scary. tell me ur fav part, ur least fav part, any suggestions requests wtv girl just talk!

hi forgot to tag @xinghuisknight and @snowypi

Rafayel groans from the floor beside your bed, eyes shut and both arms curled protectively around his stomach. "God, cutie," he slurs, eyes shut. "Is this how you greet all your late night visitors? No wonder you're still single.." He pushes his face into your carpet stretching out a groan, curling in on himself in an attempt to make him seem more pitiful (or he's actually in that much pain. You feel a hint of guilt twist at the bottom of your stomach). He doesn't seem to realise the last sentence slipped out, or register the rapidly-fading glower you're directing his way.

"Rafayel!" you snap, body relaxing at the same time as your embarrassment rises from the sight of his familiar face. You kneel down beside him with a heaving sigh, watching as the errant moonlight that's escaped through your blinds falls on Rafayel's features, pouring gently over the pale skin. His collarbones are exposed to the air of your room, his shirt half-unbuttoned. The crisp light makes them seem sharper than usual. You stop yourself from reaching out and tracing their shadow.

You blink, dragging your gaze back up to his eyes, which are slightly open now but cloudy. There's something amused in his gaze, something that tells you he knows exactly what you're stopping yourself from doing. When the white of his teeth glints in the moonlight as he starts to smirk, you know an overly cocky, supremely aggravating and - no matter how much you deny it - not entirely false comment is about to spoken. You cut him off before he can say anything.

"What are you doing here? I told you that the spare key was only for emergencies." You push some anger into your voice, as much as you can without making it obvious to Rafayel that you're trying to distract him and disturbing your neighbours further.

Rafayel has no such qualms and a drunk fish is much more easily distracted. "It was an emergency!" He says it at a normal volume but in the stillness of the night, it sounds like he's yelling it. You hurry to shush him with a finger to his lips but he turns his head away from your hand, returning your glare with one of his own, albeit a pouty one. "I couldn't find my house." He mumbles and you snort. This time, he shushes you, reaching an arm up to clumsily press a finger to your lips. "Don't laugh..."

You grab his wrist loosely and speak against his finger. He shudders, eyes going half-lidded but you aren't sure why. "What do you mean you couldn't find your house? You couldn't find yours but you could find mine?"

Alcohol and embarrassment causing a pink flush to spread over his cheeks and his gaze drifts away from your face. "Your address is burned into my mind, cutie. It was the only thing I could think of when the driver asked where he should take me." The last dredges of your annoyance melt with the statement and after a second of hesitation, you decide that it's far too late at night and you are way too on edge to deal with the ramifications of that statement.

He doesn't let you say anything else before he's pushing himself up on to his elbows and then wobbling his way back upright. Your hands reach out automatically to steady him, but he bats your efforts away. You stand with him and raise an eyebrow, as if to ask, 'what now?'

Before you can blink, he falls forward, straight into you, sending the both of you crashing backwards on top of the soft bed in a bundle of limbs, an aborted scream and loud, drunken laughter that you will definitely get complaints about from your neighbours in the morning.

His face is right above yours, his entire body weight resting on you. He grins wide and smug, eyes glinting with exasperating glee. You tense up for a minute, getting ready to shove him off, but instead you find your body going lax. He seems as shocked by your actions as you are, but not upset, if the way the grin stretches wider, so wide it seems painful, is any indication.

You flick his forehead in vengeance and he yelps, eyes going alert. "Ow! Cutie!" You laugh, though it's more of a cackle and finally push him off of you, though he whines like a spoiled kid when you do, fingertips resting on your waist for as long as possible. The whine is abruptly cut off by a another yelp when you grab his foot and start trying to yank his shoe off without undoing the laces. "What are you doing? Stop trying to take advantage of me!"

"I'm taking off your dirty shoes!" You tug his foot back towards you when he tries to pull it away. "If anything, this is princess treatment!"

"Excuse you," he sniffs, resting his feet in your lap. "My shoes are pristine. I think they're cleaner than your bed - hey! Those are expensive!" You chuck the other shoe at the wall the same way you did the first one, despite his gasp of indignation.

"Nothing about you right now is pristine, but I think if I tried to get you to take a shower, you'd find a way to drown under the spray."

"You'd probably drown me yourself," he mutters, then reaches to grab your arm and pull you back up against his side.

He's warm. You hope he doesn't notice your face heat up, burning into his skin.

"Rafayel -"

"Stay." He asks - no, he orders - his tone almost offended that you thought there was another option.

On any other night you'd put up more of argument. You'd probably win it too, after about twenty minutes of pointing out every reason that this is a bad idea. But tonight, you're tired. The initial panic that started when he flopped down on to you has given way to lethargy, and you wouldn't really mind laying down beside someone who makes you feel safe and sleeping for a solid eight hours.

He smells of something overwhelming sugary with an aftertaste that stings your nose when you bury your face in his fancy silk shirt. The weight of his arm draped over your body is reassuring. You'll probably regret this when you wake up. He might too, but right now, it's enough to hold him close and let him move you around so he can press his face into your neck instead and lull you into sleep with his talk about how good you'd be as his personal hot water bottle.

a/n: do i talk enough about how much i love him i really dont think i do. im always talking about zayne but rafayel is just me in a male body and fictional. by maining rafayel. you main via. does anyone else think about the malcolm toddism of fishvia i do i always do dear rafayel i miss you so much please fall in love with me and hate me forever too me and my block of pixels have a very complex relationship. also the first part where u think there's an intruder is my april fools ok?

as always reblogs, like BUT ESPPPP reblogs with tags and comments are appreciated. pls talk i promise im not scary. tell me ur fav part, ur least fav part, any suggestions requests wtv girl just talk!

hi forgot to tag @xinghuisknight and @snowypi

The match ends, and he’s already moving toward you before he fully realizes it. His shirt sticks to his skin, damp from his own practice, but all he can think about is you.

“How do you do it?” he blurts out, still catching his breath.

You turn, blinking at him with an unreadable expression. Up close, you’re even more intimidating—not in size, but in presence. Like you know exactly who you are, like the world doesn’t shake you.

“Do what?” you ask, tilting your head.

Hinata gestures vaguely to the sand, the wind, everything. “That! The way you move, the way you—like the wind doesn’t even touch you. How do you jump like that?”

A slow smile tugs at your lips. “I guess I just got used to it.”

“Teach me,” he says immediately, voice alight with determination. “Please.”

You exhale, watching him for a long moment before nodding. “Alright. Hope you’re ready to eat a lot of sand.”

It starts as training.

Late-night sessions on the sand, long after the sun has dipped below the horizon. The two of you meet when the rest of the world has gone quiet, when the only sounds left are the crash of waves and the occasional distant laughter from a nearby beach bar.

At first, he struggles. A lot.

The sand betrays him. The wind mocks him. The game he thought he understood has changed, and he stumbles over his own feet more times than he can count.

You laugh every time.

“Did you just trip over the air?” you tease as he groans, face-first in the sand.

“It moved!” Hinata protests, spitting out a mouthful of grit. “I swear the sand moved!”

You roll your eyes, offering him a hand. He takes it without hesitation.

The nights blur together—long hours spent chasing the ball, learning the subtle shifts of the wind, adjusting his jumps. He gets better. He learns fast. And as the training stretches on, something else changes, too.

One night, after an exhausting session, you tilt your head at him. “My place is closer than yours,” you say. “You can crash there if you want.”

Hinata hesitates for only a second before nodding. “Yeah. Okay.”

Your home is small but warm. The kind of place that feels lived in, filled with little pieces of you—a shelf lined with trophies, photos pinned up on a board, the lingering scent of something citrusy in the air.

You toss him a towel and some clean clothes. “These should fit you.”

Hinata looks down at the oversized towel wrapped around his waist. “What? You don’t like my new look?”

You snort. “Not unless you plan on making it a fashion statement.”

He grins but takes the clothes, disappearing into the bathroom. When he emerges, you’re already settled on the couch, a movie playing in the background.

Hinata isn’t really watching.

His gaze drifts to you—the way you’re curled up, comfortable, the way the screen flickers across your face. He doesn’t know why, but he wants to be closer.

The movie ends. You stretch, turning to him with a sleepy smile. “Goodnight, Hinata.”

Before he can stop himself, he leans in and kisses you.

Your breath hitches, but you don’t pull away. You kiss him back, fingers curling into his shirt, pulling him closer, and before either of you fully register what’s happening, you’re tangled together—breathless, desperate, lost in each other.

By the time you make it to your room, he’s memorizing the way your skin feels under his hands, the way your laughter gets caught in your throat. You sigh his name.

And for the first time since coming to Brazil, Hinata feels like he’s home.

You are happy. Really happy.

Days spent playing, nights spent wrapped up in each other, whispered confessions between laughter. You make promises in the dark, in the spaces between his dreams.

And then—he leaves.

Hinata tells you he’ll come back. Of course he will. How could he not? Brazil changed him. You changed him. He says it with so much conviction that you believe him.

But then the months pass. And pass.

You call. No answer. You text. No response.

Then one day, you see the headline.

“Hinata Shoyo Signs with MSBY Black Jackals”

The picture shows him back in Japan, grinning, surrounded by everything he once dreamed of.

Your hands tremble as you set your phone down. You wait for a message, for anything.

But nothing comes.

And for the first time, you wonder if he ever planned to come back at all.

It happens at a match.

You’re focused on the game, locked in, until you feel it—eyes on you.

When you glance to the side of the court, he’s there.

Hinata, hands shoved in his pockets, watching you like he did that first time.

Your chest tightens.

After the game, he approaches, hesitant but there.

“Hey,” he says softly.

You exhale. “Hey.”

For a long moment, neither of you speak. Then, he swallows. “Can we talk?”

You hesitate before nodding.

The restaurant is quiet. The food is untouched.

Hinata had requested a private room for the two of you, the empty room almost seeming as if it was mocking you. You'd rather be playing volleyball naked, you think.

Anything would be better than this strange form of torture Hinata has put you through.

You stare at your glass, and then the words slip out before you can stop them.

“I waited for you.”

Hinata’s breath catches. His grip tightens around his drink. “I know.”

Your voice wavers. “I waited, and you didn’t come back.”

When you finally look at him, tears are welling in your eyes.

Hinata feels something in his chest break, and before he can think—he’s kissing you.

Between kisses, he mumbles

I missed you.

Missed Brazil.

Missed us.

I love you.

When you pull away, your voice is quiet. “Then prove it.”

And this time—he will.

He swears by it.

trying to get back into multi-fandom writing :) hope this was good!

WHAT IS AKI LIKE AS A BOYFRIEND ?

Aki is the kind who's silently devoted, he wouldn't gush or brag, and his love shows up primarily in routines, habits, and the way he always makes space for you in his life!

He's protective without being overbearing. If your in a relationship with this guy, it's clear he trusts you and respects your decisions, so when it comes to someone else flirting with you, he wouldn't care because he knows you wouldn't indulge it. Meanwhile if your in danger, THAT'S the kind of protective he is, in the sense that he will drop everything if you need saving.

He struggles to say affectionate things out loud at first, his compliments will come stiff and awkward, but Aki isn't the type of guy to just say things, so compliments still mean a lot to you, even though their a bit bumpy.

Once he's in love, he's in it fully. He doesn't half-commit to anything, especially not when it comes to something as intimate as a relationship (especially considering your most likely his first partner)

Aki has trouble believing he deserves the happiness he gets when he's around you, so a lot of reassuring will definitely be needed, especially around the start of your relationship.

WHAT IS AKI'S IDEAL DATE?

A perfect date for Aki would be something simple and quiet. Examples, cooking dinner together at home and watching a movie, a small cozy restaurant with not many people and gentle lighting, or walking through the city at night, linking pinkies.

He likes dates where conversation comes easy without interruptions like the bustling streets of the city or constant chattering.

When it's cold, and your both out, he'll offer you his coat immediately, secretly liking when you slip it in and get a whiff of his subtle cologne.

Speaking of scents, he loves when you sit close enough to him where he can smell you, just doing that relaxes him a lot.

Aki doesn't do spontaneous "let's go right now" dates. He'll plan, not extravagantly, thoughtful, planning things he's sure you'd like. He checks the weather, the time, how crowded a place might be.

In the early stages of your relationship, before you live together, he's showing up to dates 20 minutes early.

For dinner dates, as mentioned, he prefers smaller, less crowded restaurants, or cooking at home. If it's in a restaurant, he'll listen more than he talks, and will always remain eye contact when you speak. If you're unsure what to order, he helps without being pushy on getting a certain thing.

He definitely prefers cooking together compared to a restaurant but doesn't mind either.

He likes when your hands brush when you cook, it makes him a little flustered. And he loves when you taste his cooking and coo in content, it makes him prideful, the fact that you like his food.

WHAT ARE SOME OF AKI'S HABITS WHEN DATING ?

He makes you tea like it's second nature if he ever catches your eyes slightly drooping. If you like tired or God forbid, even upset, he'll do it, not even asking you.

He's a handy guy, and you find it very attractive. He'll fix things around the house without even mentioning it. Broken light bulbs? Replaced instantly. Loose cabinets? It's handled before you even realise it was loose.

He always wakes up earlier than you and gets so upset at himself when he wakes you by accident. He tries his actual hardest to try not to disturb your beauty sleep.

He keeps track of you a lot. Just to know your safe, he even insisted on a location sharing app.

He leaves notes sometimes around the house. Short and simple ones, usually like "I'll be home late, eat dinner." And he'll just stick it to the counter and dips to go to work.

WHAT IS AKI'S LOVE LANGUAGE ?

His primary is definitely acts of service. It's his strongest one by far.

Aki shows his love by doing things for you, he fixes, prepares, plans, and anticipates your needs before you even voice them.

He'll make you meals when you're tired, cleans without being asked, handles things so you don't have to worry!

He feels useful when he's taking care of you. It gives him purpose beyond devil hunting.

The sentence "I did it already, don't worry about it" is basically his love confession.

The other 4 love languages are still very much present in the relationship because Aki is just that superhuman perfect being.

His more secondary love language would be quality time.

He values your presence more than big gestures. Sitting together while doing separate things, cooking side by side, walking back to the apartment together while he listens to you talk about your day. In Aki's eyes, it's perfect.

Meanwhile, with something like physical touch, it's more lowkey. In public, he definitely isn't super big on PDA, the most your getting is a hand on your back, guiding you through the crowd, or linking pinkies. When Aki initiates touch, it's always sincere.

As for gift giving, he wouldn't do grand gifts. If he buys you something, it's because he noticed you needed it. A scarf for winter, new clothes, stuff like that. Sometimes he'll indulge you with something he'll think you'll like, but it's pretty rare.

His weakest by far is words of affirmation. It's not his weakest because he doesn't feel it. It's because saying it is hard for him.

Compliments come out short. "You look good." "I'm glad you're here"

Aki saying "I love you" takes time, when he finally says it, he means it fully.

Now Aki wouldn't mind whatever your primary love language would be. He needs patience, reassurance and he needs someone that understands that love for him, is often silent.

WHAT'S AKI LIKE WHEN HIS PARTNER IS SICK ?

Aki goes on caretaker mode immediately. Unlike the clingy puppy, known as Denji, Aki will not hug you while you sleep, because he doesn't want both of you getting sick. He needs to be healthy enough to take care of YOU to the best of his abilities and he really hopes you understand that.

He's so attentive, you wouldn't be shocked if he whipped out a whole clipboard to keep everything in track. Your temperature is checked regularly, water is always on your bedside, and gets replaced with fresh water every hour, medicine is given on schedule and when you sleep, he'll sit beside your bed and just watch.

If you ever apologise for being a burden, and having him take time off work just because your sick, he'll shake his head and insist gently that he WANTS to take care of you.

HOW DOES AKI KISS ?

As expected, he does it very soft and deliberate, kisses don't come very often, usually atleast once or twice a day.

Rare make out sessions start slow– a gentle press of the lips, to test before he leans closer in to indulge himself in you a bit more.

One hand is almost always resting at your waist or jaw, not really for a particular reason, he likes it this way.

When he's feeling overwhelmed after a long day at work, his kisses lingering longer, like he's trying to memorise you (he already has)

Aki also isn't overly flashy or aggressive when it comes to kisses, but when he's really in the mood, his kisses are deep and passionate.

His favourite to give you are forehead kisses, he'll give you one before leaving for work in the morning if your still sleeping. Meanwhile, his favourite to recieve are.... also forehead kisses! He likes how simple they are, and especially likes when your cuddled up to him, brushing his bangs out of the way to press a firm kiss on his forehead.

WHAT IS SLEEPING LIKE WITH AKI ?

First off, he's not big on cuddling when your relationship is still young. He's stiff, unsure where to put his arms or worried your in an uncomfortable position.

Once he's fully comfortable, he actually does enjoy cuddles a lot. He wouldn't verbally tell you, but you know, since when you do curl up next to him, he'll let out this relaxed sigh and pull you a bit closer.

He doesn't need to be glued to you to sleep, but he DOES need atleast one point of contact. Examples, your hand on his, your back pressed against his chest, your leg tangled in his, cuddling with you becomes part of his routine without even realising it.

Aki usually sleeps on his back, but if you're there, he automatically sleeps on his side, facing you.

If you fall asleep first, he watches you for a moment before settling in, he just wants to make sure your comfortable.

He's also very careful to not crush you while you sleep...

When it comes to cuddles positions, spooning is his go-to, he likes being the big spoon, his arms around your middle, hand resting on your stomach or hip.

Nights after he's had a rough day, he'll want to lay against your chest and just listen to your heartbeat. It soothes him a lot.

Does Aki snore?... yeah... very lightly though, when he's in a deep sleep or exhausted, he'll snores louder.

He'll definitely get embarrassed if he wakes you by accident thanks to his snoring.

Would Aki care if you snore?, nope, if anything, he'll find it reassuring, cause when he hears you snore, it means your still alive and breathing.

If you ever have a nightmare, he doesn't ask questions, he'll just hold you until you calm down, offering to make you something soothing to calm you down if you want.

Sleep is when Aki is the most vulnerable, being able to sleep next to someone peacefully is huge for him. It means trust and safety, and most of all, love.

WHAT ABOUT WHEN DENJI AND POWER MOVE IN ?

It's a bit difficult to adjust at first. Your once clean and well kept for apartment has now transformed into a stink bomb!

Power is the most difficult to get used to. She doesn't flush the toilet, barely takes baths, and throws vegetables around when it's served to her.

Denji on the other hand is more polite, but he himself is a rowdy boy, and sometimes indulges in Power's shenanigans.

At the start, your constantly working to keep the house clean, and Aki couldn't be more grateful to you. He knows its hard to get used to suddently having to share your home with strangers (atleast to you, they were strangers), and is apologetic about it, but he's thankful that you understand and even find them a bit amusing.

You've found that bribing the two (Power and Denji) with snacks and candy, have them working to the bone to serve you and the house, so you can take good long breaks.

Something that constantly irks Aki however, is when he's trying to have private sexy time with you. He could be in the middle of thrusting deep inside your sopping hole, and Power will burst in and complain about how loud you both are before slamming the door, nearly waking up the whole complex.

He'll try teaching the both of them the concept of privacy right after.

yaaayy i finally wrote for the goat.... he's so cute I love this dude.

itoshi rin

rin doesn’t go viral for one thing. he goes viral because people slowly realize this man cannot coexist peacefully with anyone. 

it starts with a clip of him ignoring his manager mid-sentence. like the manager is explaining scheduling and rin just walks away. no nod. no “okay.” just gone. 

the caption: “bro logged out of the conversation.” 7 million likes. 

then there’s footage of rin sitting at the far end of the bench, headphones in, hood up, staring at the floor while his teammates are laughing two feet away. people start stitching it with “i hate it here” audio. 

another example? the caption will be like: “POV: you asked rin to participate in team bonding.” cut to him blinking once and looking away. 

the internet discovers he doesn’t get along with ANYONE. not teammates. not staff. not reporters. not even his brother. suddenly it’s a pattern. 

someone makes a compilation titled “rin itoshi vs social interaction.” it’s just him walking away from people, sighing, or saying “… whatever.” 15 million views. 

rin’s emo one-liners get clipped out of context and memed to death. “i don’t care.” “this is pointless.” “leave me alone.” minecraft parkour underneath. subway surfers on the side. 

the final nail in the coffin? a clip where sae tries to talk to him post-match and rin cuts him off with “don’t talk to me.” the caption: “bro beefing with his own DNA.” 

rin becomes known as “the guy who hates everyone equally.” fans start joking that his true rival isn’t another striker, it’s interpersonal relationships. 

rin finds out and is genuinely irritated. “why are they filming me.” which… goes viral, too. 

itoshi sae

sae doesn’t go viral because he’s hot. he goes viral because he should NOT be allowed near a microphone. 

it starts with a post-match interview where he’s asked about a teammate’s performance and he goes, completely flat: “it wasn’t impressive. he did what he was supposed to.” 

the interviewer freezes. the internet does NOT. 

clip spreads everywhere with captions like “this man hates his teammates.” and “HR nightmare, but make it expensive.” 

from there, people start watching his interviews like it’s reality TV. waiting for him to say something insane. 

for example: the interviewer: “do you think the team chemistry is improving?” sae: “chemistry doesn’t matter if you’re bad.” yeah, twitter EXPLODES. 

people start stitching his interviews with “bro was not media trained.” edits of him walking away while text pops up like “DO NOT ASK HIM QUESTIONS.” 

there’s a moment where a reporter asks him about online criticism and sae says, “i don’t read comments. people who talk online usually can’t play.” this sentence alone trends for DAYS. 

everyone starts calling him “unfiltered king” and “rich man with no PR team.” there’s compilations titled “sae itoshi saying what everyone else is too scared to.” 

brands get nervous. interviews get shorter. sae remains unbothered. 

the funniest part? sae genuinely doesn’t think he’s being rude. when asked about it later, he says, “they asked a question. i answered it.” 

the clip of THAT answer goes viral, too. 

nagi seishiro

nagi goes viral in the most embarrassing way possible: someone (reo) posts a video of him lying flat on the locker room floor, staring at the ceiling, unmoving for a full minute. 

caption: “me after sending one email.” 20 million views. 

after that, people start spotting him asleep everywhere. on a bench. on the bus. leaning against reo’s shoulder. there’s compilations. edits. playlists titled “nagi core.” 

one clip of him being asked “how do you feel about winning?” and answering “… tired.” becomes a reaction meme used globally. 

people forget he’s insanely talented. he’s now known as “the most relatable man alive.” 

nagi finds the memes and genuinely thinks they’re funny. he starts leaning into it without realizing it. longer pauses. deadpan stares. lying down whenever possible. 

reo begs him to stop. nagi just shrugs. “it’s easier this way.” 

mikage reo

reo’s downfall starts with a harmless vlog: “practice day with nagi.” 

the problem? everything in the frame is expensive. his car. his watch. the café they stop at “real quick.” 

people pause the video to identify brands. suddenly there are breakdown videos titled “reo mikage’s casual lifestyle is insane.” 

comments are brutal: “why is his water bottle ¥30,000.” “that’s not a bag, that’s a mortgage.” 

reo becomes the face of quiet luxury. people don’t talk about his skills anymore. they talk about his generational wealth and his soft voice. 

the nagireo clips make it worse. people start shipping them HARD. like “that’s not his teammate, that’s his emotional support billionaire.” 

reo tries to laugh it off. posts more. accidentally flexes again. 

by the end of it, the internet is convinced reo is a lifestyle brand, nagi is his muse, and soccer is just a side hobby. 

bachira meguru

bachira’s virality starts when people realize he says whatever pops into his head with ZERO social buffering. 

there’s a mic’d-up clip where he laughs mid-game and goes, “your face looked funny when you panicked.” he sounds delighted. the other player looks traumatized. 

the caption: “this man is not mean, he’s just mentally elsewhere.” 

people start clipping every time he talks about his “monster.” out of context, it’s HORRIFYING. “i like when my monster dances.” “it gets loud when i’m bored.” 

they immediately turn it into memes like “me and the voices” or “he’s not weird, he’s just neurodivergent-coded.” 

then there’s the clip where a reporter asks him about teamwork and bachira goes, “i don’t really think about other people when i play.” smiles. waves. leaves. 

comments are split between: “he’s so real” and “this man should not be allowed near the general public.” 

bachira sees the memes and thinks they’re funny. he reposts one. that’s when the internet decides he’s in on the joke and starts pushing it harder. 

suddenly he’s known as “the silly little guy who might bite you.” and honestly? he loves it. 

shidou ryusei

shidou doesn’t “accidentally” go viral. he earns it. 

it starts with a post-match interview where he describes scoring a goal as “better than sex.” the interviewer laughs nervously. the clip gets muted, but reposted everywhere. 

the caption just says, “sir this is a sports channel.” 

from that point on, people start tuning into his interviews just to see what insane metaphor he’ll use next. 

for example: shidou: “i like it when the ball listens to me.” everyone: “WHY did he say it like that.” 

there’s also the infamous clip where he screams directly into the camera after a goal, tongue out, unhinged grin. it becomes a reaction pic for EVERYTHING. bad takes. bad dating decisions. freaky edits. you name it. 

shidou gets called out for flirting mid-game. someone posts footage of him winking at an opponent. caption: “blue lock, but he’s not locked in.” 

brands try to work with him. it lasts one ad before he says something insane on live. contract mysteriously disappears. 

shidou thinks it’s hilarious. he leans into it. the internet decides he’s either their favorite menace or a walking HR violation. 

karasu tabito

karasu’s downfall is otoya. full stop. 

otoya posts a casual vlog: team beach day. sun, laughs, vibes. everything’s normal until the camera pans. 

karasu is standing a good TEN FEET away from the water. arms crossed. sunglasses on. fully dressed. 

otoya laughs and goes, “you not getting in?” karasu, dead serious: “nuh uh.” 

the clip gets clipped. reposted. stitched. slowed down. 

caption: “why is a 6 foot man beefing with the ocean.” 11 million views. 

people notice it’s not just the ocean. lake? no. pool? no. ankle-deep water? absolutely not. 

there’s footage of waves barely touching his shoes and him immediately stepping back like the water insulted his family. 

comments are ruthless: “bro’s scared of bath time.” “he’s calculating the depth spiritually.” 

otoya posts another clip of karasu holding his shoes while everyone else swims. karasu looks so annoyed. 

karasu finally addresses it in an interview: “i don’t trust bodies of water.” EVERYONE LOSES IT. 

edits of him with dramatic music and text like “when you’re built like a tank, but afraid of puddles.” 

he becomes known as “the man who can read people, but not waves.” 

kaiser michael

kaiser doesn’t even do anything special. that’s the problem. he just exists. breathes. stands there. with illegal amounts of rizz. 

it starts with a fan-cam where he’s walking past a crowd after a match. some girl yells something unintelligible. he glances over, smirks BARELY, and keeps walking. 

the girl SCREAMS. like collapses. needs assistance. the aura was that insane. 

caption: “why did that look like he just ruined her life.” 9 million likes. 

people start posting clips of him making eye contact. that’s it. just eye contact. slowed down. zoomed in. dramatic music. 

comments are unhinged: “he doesn’t flirt, he selects.” “he looks like he knows your credit score.” 

then guys start chiming in. “i’m straight, but–” becomes a genre. edits titled “men discovering michael kaiser.” 

there’s a viral tweet: “i fear michael kaiser could turn a priest.” kaiser never acknowledges it. which makes it worse. 

someone asks him in an interview if he’s aware of his “appeal.” kaiser smiles and goes, “of course.” 

clip trends instantly. people call him rizz final boss. 

the internet fully forgets he’s a striker. he’s now categorized as a phenomenon. 

ness alexis

ness doesn’t go viral on his own. he goes viral because he is ALWAYS two inches away from kaiser. 

every clip of kaiser has ness in the background. watching. smiling. nodding. sometimes looking like he’s about to cry from pride. 

people start pointing it out. putting paparazzi by lady gaga over it. then it escalates. 

like: “why is he standing like that.” “FREE MY BOY.” “blink twice if you need help.” 

there’s a mic’d-up clip where someone criticizes kaiser and ness immediately snaps, “you don’t understand his vision.” immediate meatrider allegations. 

compilations appear titled “ness defending kaiser like it’s his full-time job.” 

the internet does what the internet does and exaggerates it to hell. memes calling him “submissive-coded,” “emotional support midfielder,” “kaiser’s biggest fan and smallest hater.” 

ness tries to clap back ONCE by liking a comment praising kaiser. comments reply: “bro this isn’t helping your case.” 

he becomes infamous for staring at kaiser during interviews instead of the interviewer. people add captions like “that’s his man.” 

ness is mortified. kaiser thinks it’s funny. does nothing to stop it.