Throws This At You Then Runs Away - Blog Posts

⟶ satoru is a stinking glasses thief

cw:: just fluff/crack, reader is sick of him (affectionately), gn!reader

It’s 12PM when you realise you haven't seen your glasses all day.

Squinty-eyed, you trudge into the bedroom, trying to discern a pair of frames from the clutter and blurriness that greets you.

“Babe, you haven't seen my glasses have you?” you ask, searching through the bedside table before standing up and looking at him. You sigh.

“Nevermind. Found them,” you say, reaching out to pluck them off of his face. Satoru swats your hand away, grinning impishly.

“I look hot, right?” he grins (you think. it could be him baring his teeth in pain. It's blurry), taking your hand and pulling you down to the bed.

“I don't know. I can't see.”

“I always think you look super hot. So, what's the verdict? Do I look as good as you? Better?” He tugs you towards him, looping an arm around your shoulders and tilting your head up to his with a crooked finger.

“I dunno. Give me my glasses back and I'll let you know.”

He frowns, the cogs visibly turning in his head. “But then you won't see me wearing them..!”

You finally manage to wrangle your glasses off of him, sliding them back onto your face, blinking as your eyes readjust to the new focus. His little pout begs for your attention in ultra definition, and you can't help but pull his lip down, letting it bounce back up.

He sighs again, pulling you into his lap and poking you in the side. “You need to buy spares so you can see how hot I look in your glasses, okay?”

You roll your eyes. “I had spares. You sat on them—”

“Potato, potahto! You know, I always have to straighten your glasses after we make out sloppy style. You don't wanna straighten mine?” He bats his eyelashes at you, pressing his face right up to yours so you can get a good view of the way crocodile tears spring to his big blue eyes.

“I think I can live without.” You press a playful kiss to his lips.

“But you shouldn't.” He presses another kiss to your lips, then another, then another. “But I’ll forgive you if you promise to buy another pair, okay?”

You snort at his audacity, pinching his nose. “Fuck no. You broke them, you can replace them.”

He whines loudly, throwing himself back on the bed and starfishing. He remains that way for a full four seconds (new record) before springing back up.

“Okay!” He presses yet another kiss to your lips, before scooping you up and taking you to the living room, wrapped around him in a princess carry. “I'll order.”

You hum, readjusting your glasses. You scoff when you notice the visible finger marks on the lenses. “You touched the lense with your sweaty hands. Disgusting.”

“Oh, that's why your lenses were so blurry.”