He was well known as the resident heartthrob of Seika High, and as much as you tried to resist, even you weren’t immune to his charms. You had had crushes several times and maybe even glimpsed love once, but the feeling you got when Takumi Usui was around was different and it honestly exhausted you. You knew it wasn’t an original feeling -you hated just how unoriginal it was- and you knew that every girl at Seika but Misaki Ayuzawa understood it, so maybe that was another reason for spending so much time with her lately; if she could resist his charms, maybe you could learn to resist him too.

But your wishes were not to be granted, as the second you saw Usui casually strolling towards Maid Latte, you froze. It was a brief two seconds - seconds you were not proud of- but by the time you had recovered and dashed to the aid of your unsuspecting friend, you were too late. The damage had already been done. 

That was the day you decided to put away your little crush once and for all. You would lock it up in a chest and sink it to the bottom of the ocean. You would tie it to a bird and send it off to the ends of the earth. You would chuck it into a rocket and ship it off to space. You would end it, obliterate it, annihilate it. 

Or maybe not. 

Now that poor Misaki had the full, unwanted, undivided attention of Takumi Usui, as her best friend, you were the unwitting bridge for this unlikely couple. In other words, you now spent most of your days being hounded by Usui for information on her, and you were swallowed up by the constant reminder of your feelings for him each day he did. 

Yay you. 

—-----------------------------------------------------------------

“-and that’s why you should never let Saki do any cooking. And I mean ANY. Now, are we done here?” Instead of meeting his inquisitive gaze, you delivered your response to the ground, as though the ground might offer some insight on the unfortunate situation you now found yourself in, but the ground had no such advice and Usui was still as troublesome as ever.  

Even though you weren’t looking, you could feel him grinning as he observed you and it made your heart throb painfully in your chest. “You know,” he said thoughtfully, “I’ve noticed you’re the only one who ever calls her Saki. Pretty interesting, if you ask me.”

“Well I didn’t ask you. Now can I go? I have to study and Saki will kill me if I don’t and I’ll kill you if she does.” With fierce determination, you finally managed to meet his gaze. Big mistake. His eyes were very green. Very green and very big and very all consuming. 

Talking to the ground had let you forget that you were in a whole new level of the friend zone, a level that had not previously been invented until you opened your shitty mouth and agreed to his shitty terms, a level that, if measured by Olympic standards, would meant you now held the gold medal in the competition of the worst possible ways to be rejected by someone you liked. And now that you were looking into his stupidly big, stupidly green eyes, you were face to face with your mistake. And it was making you blush like you’d come straight from a sauna. Fucking hell. 

You slowed your breathing in attempts to counteract the flames bursting from your cheeks. You couldn’t back down now; you were not about to return to staring at the ground after you’d so obviously made a big deal about glaring him down. 

If he was aware of the amount of strain you were putting yourself through, he didn’t let on, because he kept chattering on, “So I know at work she’s Misa, and here she’s either Misaki or President, but to you, she’s Saki. What’s up with that?” He stroked his chin as though it were some great, big mystery to ponder, as though he might actually lose sleep if the answers were not provided to him in this instant. 

You sighed. “I just wanted something that was mine, okay? Is that good enough? I wanted a name for my best friend that no one else could have but me. So don’t even think about calling her Saki, got that? Now I’m going to study and you’re going to sit here and pretend you’re satisfied even though I know you rarely ever are.” You grabbed your bag and hurried out of school. 

No attention from him at all was better than the scattered scraps of attention that he littered at your feet while he spoonfed Misaki a whole buffet. At least when he wasn’t paying attention to you, you could pretend you had a chance. 

—------------------------------------------------------------------

You said you were going to study but it was as though Usui’s incessant interrogations had drilled a hole through your skull and let your brain cells to spill through the drain, because suddenly you had no motivation to continue with your history lessons. You ended up going for a run instead. 

As you did laps around your neighborhood, you thought to yourself that at this rate, with how many meetings you were having with Usui, Misaki would fall into his lap in no time at all. The thought made you run faster. You hated everything about this situation. You hated the way he looked at you, like he was looking through you. You hated the way he looked at her, like she was light in the dark. You even hated the way you hated things. You hated that you couldn’t just be happy for her. If anyone was going to make Usui fall head over heels, of course it would be her, with her passion and her ambition and her intelligence. And it should be her. It should be her. 

Suddenly you were sprinting through the streets just so you could pretend that the agonizing ache in your chest was nothing more than fatigue from exercise. When you finally dragged your exhausted body back home for a shower, Usui was in the dining room when you came out. 

Of course he was in the damn dining room. Talking with your mother about how her “food gets better every time,” and talking with your father about “did you see the game last week,” as if he was a natural part of the family. That was the worst part about this little arrangement of yours; your family had started to get used to him showing up at random times and you were sure by now that they thought you were going out with each other. You didn’t have the heart to tell them he was just using you. You barely had the heart to admit it to yourself. 

“Takumi, sweetie, take some leftovers home if you like it so much, I don’t mind. We have plenty and I’m just so glad you liked it.” 

Hearing your mother call Usui by his first name before you ever could made you want to puke. God, she loved him. You bet it was only a matter of time before she started saying things like, “Well Takumi’s a nice guy, why can’t you find someone more like Takumi? Why don’t you just date Takumi?” If only it were that simple.

“Usui. Upstairs, now.” You grabbed him by the ear and led him away. He waved to your mom before you disappeared up the stairs with him. 

“How many times do I have to tell you? You can’t just keep showing up without warning. And didn’t I just see you like a couple hours ago?”

He shrugged and then collapsed on your bed, the way he always did. He liked the mattress, said it felt better than his and that one of these days, he might just steal it. “Had more questions for you.”

You sighed, exasperated. “First, you’re in my dining room, eating my dinner, talking to my mother, and now you’re getting comfortable in my bed. You really don’t know what shame is, do you?” You shoved him over slightly so you could take up position beside him, staring up at the ceiling so you wouldn’t have to look at his stupid grin.

“Can’t help if your parents like me.”

“Yeah, well, they don’t know you well enough then.”

He pressed a hand to his chest dramatically. “Ouch. So because you know me, you don’t like me?”

“Never said I didn’t like you, just said I didn’t like you showing up at my house at random times.”

He tapped his chin with his finger. “So you don’t like it when I talk to you at school and you don’t like when I talk to you at home, when am I supposed to talk to you then?”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s not talking; it’s interrogating. And maybe I’m just tired of talking about Misaki all the time.” You were surprised to discover just how honestly you’d answered. You usually just shut him down with a sarcastic quip, but maybe today he’d worn you just a little too thin. Maybe today, you couldn’t completely hide how you felt. 

“So what’s your favorite color?” He propped himself onto his side so he could face you.

You kept your eyes on the ceiling. “What kind of a dumb question is that? I thought you were here to ask me about Misaki.”

“Yeah, but you just said you’re tired of talking about her. So tell me your favorite color. Favorite movie. Favorite food. I bet it’s something your mom makes. She’s a great cook, I think I’ll steal her someday.”

You snorted. “So are you into Misaki or are you into my mom?”

He smirked. “Maybe it’s both, who knows? So, are you gonna tell me your favorite color?”

“You ask too many questions.” You were silent for a moment. Then you quietly murmured, “Green.”

“Huh. You know, my eyes are green.”

You rolled away from him to lay on your side, turning to face the wall so he couldn’t see the way your cheeks were burning. “Yeah, well they’re the wrong color green. I like a different shade of green.” 

“What shade? I could wear contacts.”

“Why would you do a dumb thing like that?”

In an instant, he tugged you towards him, pushing your back to the bed, and straddling you. Then he captured your chin in between two fingers so he could hold your gaze. “Maybe so you’d actually look at me for once.”

You glared at him. “I do look at you, stupid. I’m looking now, aren’t I?”

He chuckled. “Because I’m holding you down. Is that what it takes? I should just pin you to something every time I want your attention?”

“You have my attention, so what do you want? Why do you care if I look at you or not?” You grumbled. You wanted to look away from him, wanted to shove him off of you, maybe hide in your closet, maybe bury yourself under your laundry, but it would only further prove his point, so you kept your gaze locked on him. 

“Maybe because your eyes are my favorite color.”

You almost choked. 

God, he said it so simply. Did he know the effect his words had on you? You had to stop taking everything he said so seriously. Maybe he liked your eyes, but he liked everything about Misaki. What good were your eyes when all they could do was watch him pine after someone else? Who cared if they were his favorite color if you weren’t his favorite person? All you would ever be to him was a nobody with nice eyes. 

“You’re overthinking this.” He poked you in the forehead.

You slapped his hand away. “And you’re underthinking this. You can’t just say shit like that randomly.” 

“Well what am I allowed to say?”

“Nothing. Just, nothing. Just, hush.” You yanked him back down to the bed and put a hand over his mouth. 

You both stayed like that for a moment, laying side by side, stuck in silence. You felt his breath on your hand and the sensation made you shiver but you didn’t dare move it for fear that he’d bombard you with more ridiculous questions. You wondered how long he’d allow you to keep touching him like this. You wondered how long he’d stay. 

Sometimes he just popped in for a minute, asked if you thought Misaki would like his new tie. You’d shake your head at his crooked tie, then you’d fix it for him, and say something like “Now you look half decent.” 

Sometimes he stayed for hours. Fought you for seconds at the dinner table. Helped your mom wash the dishes. Put your kid sister to bed with a book.

Sometimes you’d pretend he’d stay forever.

“Dumplings. I like dumplings.” You said finally, removing your hand from his mouth. “You asked what my favorite food was. Dumplings. Mom’s dumplings.”

He beamed at your answer. “I like your mom’s dumplings too.” Then he leaned over to whisper in your ear, “Can I tell you a secret? She gave me the recipe.”

Suddenly you couldn’t help yourself and you started laughing. There was just something so ridiculous about finally having a genuine moment with Usui and it was about dumplings. You wiped a tear from your eye, still giggling slightly. “I bet you begged her on your hands and knees,” You teased.  

He nodded with all seriousness. “That I did. Turns out I didn’t need to, she was about to give it to me anyway. But now I can make all the dumplings in the world.” 

You turned to face him properly. “So make me some dumplings then, oh Master Chef.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He saluted jokingly. Then he smiled and for a moment, Misaki didn’t exist. For a moment, he was simply a guy who made you laugh and you were simply a girl who made him smile. 

You told him your favorite movie and he promised to watch it with you. You told him your favorite game and he promised to play it with you. You told him your favorite holiday and he promised to celebrate it with you. You told him anything and everything that interested him, you told him so much that when he left, when the room quieted, when his scent dissipated, you actually missed him. But you’d never tell him that. You told him lots of things, things you’d never told anyone else, but you’d never tell him the way you felt about him. You couldn’t.

So the next morning, you quit deluding yourself.

You marched right up to him, unprompted, and declared, “She really likes the restaurant down the block from her house. Buy her dinner there and then take her for dessert next door, at her favorite bakery. Do that, and I think you might have a shot with her.” There. You’d done it. You’d given him more pieces to the puzzle and now the game was done. He wouldn’t need to meet you for lunch to ask more questions, or walk you home, or stop by for dinner. He wouldn’t need anything. He wouldn’t need you. 

You turned to leave.

“Have you tried the food there? Do you like it?”

You froze. What? “Doesn’t matter. She likes it, so you’re gonna sit there and eat it and tell her how much you enjoy it.”  You turned to leave again.

“But do you like it?”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, frustration building up inside you. “Usui, seriously, what does it matter? You don’t care if I like it, you care if she likes it. So what if I don’t like it?”

“Ahh, so you don’t like it. Where do you like to eat then?”

You stared at him. Was he stupid? He must be stupid. God, you were in love with an idiot. Of course you were in love with an idiot. You were an idiot. This whole situation was complete idiocy. Only two complete idiots would forge an idiot pact like this. “Are you… trying to figure out where not to take her?? I dunno if you’ve noticed, but Saki and I have completely different tastes in food.”

He nudged you with his elbow. “So humor me then. Where would you go to eat?”

You sighed, exasperatedly, defeatedly. “Fine. I like that place on 3rd Street. The one with the big double doors. Don’t take her there- she hates it. Now, if you’re going to go ask her out, she’s in the observatory right now.”

He tilted his head, peering at you curiously. “Why the observatory?”

“She’s not feeling well but I told her not to go to the nurse’s office right now so she’s laying down in the observatory.”

His brows furrowed. “What’s wrong with the nurse’s office?”

God, he was asking more questions than normal today. You thought you’d finally gotten him to stop asking you questions, you’d just given him the keys to the city and he was still loitering outside, stuck in park. You sighed again before explaining, “The nurse has been looking a little flushed as of late and she keeps sneaking into the bathroom to rinse off her sweat. It’s fall. She shouldn’t be sweating. She’s also been a little wobbly on her feet today, I should know- she almost crashed into me. Then I remember it rained yesterday and she forgot her umbrella, so I think she walked home in the rain and is probably sick. If Saki doesn’t feel well, coming in contact with a sick nurse is just going to make things worse, so observatory it is.”

He was still staring at you. “But why the observatory?”

You groaned. “Why so many questions?”

“Just humor me. Why the observatory?”

“I’m doing a lot of humoring you today. The last member of the astronomy club just graduated and the club hasn’t been able to accumulate new members. The observatory has been untouched as of late and it’s in a secluded corner of the campus. No one will think to look for her there and she’ll be able to rest, unbothered.” You concluded, crossing your arms in annoyance.

He leaned back in his chair, impressed. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

You blinked. Sorry, what? “Where is this coming from?”

“The way you pay attention to things. The way you pay attention to everyone. I’ve asked a million and one questions about Ayuzawa, and you’ve answered every single one of them. You actually take the time to know things about people that others might miss or find insignificant. You’re incredible.”

You stood there, stunned. “Um… are you sick too, or something?”

He laughed to himself. “You would say something like that when I’ve just complimented you. You never know how to just take a compliment, huh?” He teased, reaching for your hands. “We’ll have to work on that.”

“Usui, what are you-”

“I like you. I’ve liked you for a while now.”

You blinked a couple times. Were you the sick one? Were you hearing things? Did he just say what you thought he just said? No, he couldn’t have. That didn’t make any sense at all; he’d just spent the last several months hounding you for information about Misaki, how could he like you? You must have misheard him. “Yeah, yeah, you’re really funny Usui. Anyway, I’ve gotta go, I have-”

“Band practice?”

You froze. “I, yeah, how did you-”

“The gardening club works right outside your window during your practice hours and Ayuzawa likes to help them out so I go with her.”

“Yeah, I know, because you want to spend more time with h-”

“Because I know you’re going to be playing and I want to listen.”

Your heart thundered in your chest. No. Stop it. He couldn’t possibly be saying what you thought he was saying. You had to get it together. You were just deluding yourself further, and it had to stop.

“Usui, I don’t-”

“How long are we going to keep doing this? How long do you intend to make me wait?”

“Wait for what?”

“For a date. I’ll buy you as many dumplings as you want. I’ll make you as many dumplings as you want. Just go out with me.”

Your head was spinning. “I don’t… I don’t understand. You don’t… want Misaki?”

He shook his head. “You’re the one I’ve been spending all this time with, aren’t you?” He cradled your face in his hands. “Go out with me.” He leaned his forehead against yours. 

You closed your eyes and relaxed against him. After a moment of silence, you finally answered him. “Okay… okay.” You whispered, barely audible enough for him to hear. 

But it was just enough to send a smile cascading across his face. He planted gentle kisses all over your cheeks until he felt the skin heat up beneath his lips. “Since you’re in such a good mood now… marry me?”

You snorted and pulled back. “In your dreams, Usui. We just started dating.”

He laughed. “That we did. Was just trying my luck.” Then he winked, “Don’t worry, I’ll wear you down eventually.”

He leaned down to kiss you. It was softer than you expected. Like he could take his time with you. But there was a hint of hunger that said he wouldn’t wait forever. He’d make you his for good someday.

After all, he’d asked you a million questions before, what was getting down on one knee and asking one more? 

you knew that Usui was devout; this was just an elaborate opportunity for Isarizawa to annoy him, but you couldn’t help but want to go along with it. not only were you paid handsomely, but it wasn’t very often that your client was as staunch as Usui seemed to be.

“You can make yourself comfortable.” you offered, as innocently as a vixen could conjure, your svelte fingertips running the bare expanse of your chest, tracing the tops of your breasts as you speak. as you lay on your back, they sit, rounded, against your ribs, simply begging to be groped.

“I assure you, this is fine for me.” was the flat response you received. his tone, whilst not rude, brokered little argument. his light eyes, illuminated by the lamp in the corner, stared straight ahead.

“Are you sure? You have barely looked at me at all,” your murmur softly, pushing yourself to sit up, your bare legs stretching out in front of him. they rub against the soft sea of bedding for a moment, your voice betraying a tinge of self-consciousness, but only just. “Do you not find me pretty, Usui-San?”

for a moment, you could swear that you saw a specter of a smile tickling his soft lips, his eyes coruscating sapphires as he looks to you. for a long moment, he merely stares at you, but his gaze isn’t hungry like so many others you’ve ever experience. much unlike that of the man that actually paid you. it’s soft, and kind. “I find you beautiful, but you already know that,” his voice was level, and genuine, adding with a subtle air of an underlying, playful nature. “Your customers must have a hard time controlling themselves around you.”

you allow your voice to lilt with a similar tease. “Most of them,” before you analyze him with a furrow of your brow. “But you are unflappable. Tell me, Usui-San,” scooching yourself closer, you push up on to your knees, your hands reaching out to gently caress his broad shoulders. he didn’t reject your touch, which you’d partially been expecting. the muscle you found tensing just beneath the fabric of his pristine haori surprised you. lean and taut; and it gives you pause. but as soon as you’d allowed a glimpse of surprise to flicker across your features, it disappeared, and you crooned softly. “What is it that makes you lose control of yourself?”

Usui almost seemed as if he didn’t want to answer. his lips parted for a moment, an even breath passing through them. you are close enough to feel that same breath tickle your cheeks, but you couldn’t place the smell alcohol nor tobacco.

then, to your surprise, his gaze dips downwards. it’s a listing drop, one that lingers. first on your lips, which you purse into a simper, then to your jaw, the slender column of your neck. the corner of one of his thin brows twitches.

“Go on,” you urge, your voice a sultry whisper, “touch me…”

though his countenance was an unreadable mask, you could feel the tension of an internal struggle. he wanted to, but he knew that he shouldn’t. there was something so exciting about the fact that you were his forbidden fruit. the bane sent by the devil to coerce him into lusting. “We can take it slow if it’s your first time—“

Usui reacts, whether to your words or it was just his self control giving out, and his arm outstretches, effectively quieting you in an instant as his palm envelops the the side of your neck. his skin is incredibly soft, fingers sylphlike. the delicate pad of his thumb presses against the angle of your jaw, the remaining digits splaying flat against your throat. the sudden contact has your pulse thrumming wildly beneath his fingertips and you were certain that he, too, was hyper aware of your surprise. his thumb swipes back and forth, a slow and sensual massage, against your jaw as he appraises your expression, leaning closer, until your lips instinctively part— as if expecting to be kissed. his tiers don’t meet yours; instead, they etch upwards in a gentle smile. “All too willing…” he murmurs, more to himself than to you.

“Do you want me to touch you, too? To make you feel good?” you ask, blinking once, twice, thrice. your hands, diligently attempting to pry his haori from his shoulders, only halt when he Usui shakes his head.

“No…” he says after a long pause, his hand trailing downwards. his fingertips glide smoothly across your unblemished skin, as easily as one might caress silk, until his hand disappears beneath the fabric of your kimono. he needn’t even untie the garment, the split loose and hanging open to welcome him in. his palm envelops the swell of your breast, testing the weight in his hand, the warmth and slip-side of your flesh, before his thumb brushes against your nipple, pebbling it to hard and aching in a moment. his gentle teasing coaxes a mewl from your lips, and you arch your back, as if to offer him more. more access, more of you.

“T—that feels good,” you can’t believe yourself for stuttering, as if you were some flustered, blushing schoolgirl and not the minxy courtesan you prided yourself on being.

Usui allows his smile to widen, his thumb flicking against your nipple, his eyes locking on to yours. “You’ll have to be more convincing than that, dear heart,” as he paused, his grip on your breast tightened ever-slightly, kneading the sensitive flesh, “show me just how good I’m making you feel.”

your eyelids flutter; your hands move without your consent, fleeing to seek comfort and warmth beneath your kimono, in the sticky heat nestled at the apex of your thighs. your moan seeps out from your parted lips as honey warmed by a spring sun. “Usui-San…” you purr, pressing the delicate pads of your fingertips between your netherlips, scratching tight circles against your swelling clit. “It feels good!”

Usui seemed content with this new development, his smile remaining gentle, his touch a lover’s caress instead of the rough, hurried fucking you were used to. as if he had all of the time in the world to worship your breasts, that sentiment punctuated only further by the way his free hand now cradles your neglected swell, massaging them in slow, generous circles— in tandem with your feverish strumming. “You are so soft,” he mutters, appreciative of your silken warmth. his thumbs nudging your stiff nipples as dials to intensify your own self pleasure. “Do the men that purchase you also think so? Do they see your skin as warm silk? Do they treat you like the living treasure that I believe you to be?”

you shake your head. you knew you shouldn’t speak ill of your clientele, but none had dared to touch you as genteel as Usui. your fingers worked more fervently, pinching your needy clit between them as you work yourself over, your skirt tenting and flapping with the furious movements of your ministrations. “N—no, they don’t…” you could already feel the pooling in your lower belly, a slow warmth spreading through your midsection as you fast approached your climax.

Usui’s eyes softened, but his vice-like grip doesn’t. using both of his hands, he squeezes the supple skin, squishing your breasts together to admire the way the flesh molds to his hands, spilling out from between his clenched fingers. “Then they’re foolish,” he murmurs, matter-of-factly.

you moan his name softly, your eyes ( though heavily lidded ) flicker down to see a subtle bulge forming at his groin. the thought of this holy man getting hard just by groping your tits sends a fluttering of butterfly wings in your stomach, “Let me touch you,” you repeat softly, this time begging for the chance to get your hands, your mouth, your cunt around his cock. “Please…”

Usui chuckled, and it’s a warm and dizzying that echos in your ear, amplified by the thick, tense air between the two of you. “Your hands are too busy,” he insisted, leaning closer to allow the curve of his lip to tickle the shell of your ear. his body was close enough to share warmth with you, and you could sense the hard planes of him, lingering, though not pressed to you. he was right, of course, your hands were working between your legs, one on your mound, using your first two fingers to spread your slick lips, whilst the other plays a needy chord against your button. your eyes yearn to cross, overwhelmed by the way your orgasm creeps up and takes hold of you when he’s so close, almost as if he’s conjured it himself. “This is enough for me,” he whispers. each syllable crisp and wanton in your ear, “to experience pleasure. Your true pleasure, radiating off of you in waves as you build your own euphoria, one brick at a time.”

whether Usui knew it or not ( and you were all but certain he did ), his sensual caresses and little whispers of encouragement acted as the adhesive that cemented those bricks of pleasure in place. you found yourself an eager, trembling mess, breathlessly begging your own self for release by the time you finally find it. you’re wetter than any other man has ever made you before, the evidence clear as your fingers delved downwards, two of them attempting to plug the leaking hole, but you only make a bigger mess of your fingers and the sheets beneath you. your hips rock against your own hand, riding out your orgasm, impaled on your own fingers instead of on Usui’s cock, but it doesn’t matter. not even in your wildest dreams had you imagined that you could feel so alive. so thoroughly possessed by nirvana itself. “F— fuck,” you whimper, flustered, as your hips stutter and twitch, your sex throbbing, but your ministrations had slowed down drastically. your riding melding into a lazy rub, your eyes rolling behind closed lids. you tilt your head back, baring your neck to Usui, but he doesn’t kiss it, not even when presented it with it so trusting. the tip of his nose brushes against your pulse point, inhaling the sweet scent of your perfume cocktailing with the musky aroma of your perspiration and arousal. your tongue traces your lips, before you press them together tight enough to encourage a bit of swelling later, muffling another happy moan against your lips as you jut your hips upwards one more time, plunging your fingers deeply before pulling them out. “T-that…”

finally, after several moments of heavy silence, your eyes open, and you blink a couple of times to rid your vision of the blurriness accumulated, to find Usui leaning back on his haunches, his hands having left your clothes. your kimono disheveled, your breasts spill out in an obscene visage, but you make no attempt to cover your indecency. his expression was unnervingly neutral, as if he hadn’t just fondled you into bliss. you can’t help yourself— your eyes seek his groin again, surprised to see a small, damp patch against the fabric, but the fact that your pleasure had also brought him some as well had you smiling. it was a dazed, goofy smile, but a smile nonetheless.

however, only a moment passed before Usui found his footing, swiftly directed towards the sliding door.

“Wait!” you call, sitting up straighter, waving a hand towards him as if to grab at his clothes, though he was already out of arm’s reach. “Mr. Isarizawa said that I’m not allowed to leave this room until I’ve ridden you.” you murmur, slinking closer on your hands and knees.

usui is so damn cheesy.

when y’all first met he fasho was the one to come up to you, probably asking a question he already knew the answer to or some shit. really he just wanted to make small talk.

and he does that teasing “make fun” flirting - it’s annoying but cute!

“what if I ask you on a date right now?” “Are you asking me out?” “no, I said what if…”

but everybody knows he likes you, he’s the only one on your hip 24/7.

so so protective, but he’ll give you little space if you need it. Just know he’ll be on stand by, nothing bad will ever happen to you.

sometimes it pisses you off tho, ask him nicely and he’ll sulk but knows you’re full and well capable of handling yourself. That’s what he loves about you.

I feel like he’d ask you out on a fancy dinner date, or a walk on the beach. There’s really no in between with him to be honest.

he initiated the first kiss, catching you by surprise and off your feet - but he was of course there to catch you.

he knew you liked him back, he wouldn’t have had kissed you if he sensed any discomfort.

He’s thrilling, and loves to be adventurous with you because you make him happy and flustered.

don’t think he won’t do the same, teasing king.

as far as his personality, he’s an attention lover. he loves to be held - makes him way more soft so you enjoy those moments more than the towering man making flirty comments.

when you two finally became a couple, he would finally confess his love for you and how much he truly loves you * will also be the first time he’s said I love you *

nicknames he’d call you are “my pretty baby” or “my love” sometime in the possessive lines because he’s truly possessive when it comes to his s/o

that being said about being possessive… into PDA, he doesn’t care if he embarrased you - if someone is staring at you for too long he won’t hesitate to pull you into a passionate kiss making your eyes blow wide.