steal-your-heart-imagines:

Sprinkling of NSFW coming up– *accidentally dumps the whole ass Spice Jar on this post*

Shit.

Akira Kurusu

• “That more comfortable without the turtleneck underneath it?” Akira teases you when he notices you’re wearing his Shujin blazer–just his Shujin blazer. He knows you’re trying to seduce him, and it’s working, of course. He can’t fall to your wily ways without riling you up a little bit, first, though; he has to protect his pride somehow.
• Akira slips behind you, dusting a chaste kiss on the back of your neck. He leans down, propping his chin on your shoulder. Smooth, he slides his hands up and down your ribs, softly pushing the fabric away from your skin. His fingers gently whisper up and down your sides, never quite resting where you want them, mischievous and teasing. 
• Once you push yourself against him, pouting that he isn’t cooperating with your little plan to get him hot under the collar and fucking you silly, Akira gives in. With a satisfied chuckle and a chaste little peck on your shoulder he slides his hands up to your breasts, deft fingers working over your nipples. Akira nips and kisses along your neck as his hands toy with your chest, edging you along until you’re dripping.
• After he’s satisfied with the growing wetness dripping along your thighs, Akira pushes you against the wall, hoisting you up so your legs wrap around him, ankles locking behind his back. When your hands flit to the button keeping the blazer stuck on you, Akira quickly catches your wrists. “Mind if we leave that on?” he purrs against your skin, smirking devilishly.
• As long as it’s not too dirty (explaining those mysterious stains isn’t really something he wants to do), Akira wears the blazer to school the next day. Your smell and the heady scent of sex stick lightly to the fibers, and whenever he catches a whiff he smirks to himself. (It’s enough to make Makoto ask suspiciously why he’s been smiling like that all day, and his only response is a stuttered ‘uh, nothing’ and a bright blush).

Ryuji Sakamoto

• When Ryuji notices you stretched out on his bed lazily playing video games, wrapped in his ‘No Mo’ Rules’ shirt, he can’t control the smile that jumps to his face. His heart skips a beat; you’re so damn cute. 
• Ryuji plops down next to you unceremoniously, wrapping his arms loosely around your waist. Laughing, he nuzzles your neck gently. “Ya tryin’ to kill me?” he teases. “You know I can’t handle it when you’re so effin’ cute.” He pulls you close to him, resting his chin on the top of your head.
• When you reach around, giggling, to hug him back, Ryuji notices just how well you fill out his shirt. Suddenly his face flushes dark and red as the fabric draped around your body. His eyes drift over your thighs, your curves, your chest, oh god, your chest. Ryuji’s eyes stick to your breasts, breath quickening a little as he notices how the cotton stretches. 
• Ryuji gulps as you settle against him. Be a gentleman, dude he tells himself, keeping his hands safely frozen on your sides. That lasts for all of two seconds before his raging teenage boy hormones get the better of him and he’s flipping you over, pupils blown and heart beating wildly.
• A little timidly (he doesn’t want to upset you by just feeling you up however he wants) Ryuji, slides his hands underneath his shirt, skimming over your smooth skin. He holds back until you moan a little, encouraging; that’s all he needs to hear. Ryuji’s hands instantly mold over your breasts, working your sensitive flesh as he leans down and kisses along your neck.
• “Ya know,” he rumbles, voice thick and low, “you’re really fuckin’ sexy in that. You should wear my shit more often.”
• As much as he loves seeing you in his clothes, Ryuji loves seeing you out of them even more. Soon, his shirt’s thrown on the floor with the rest of his laundry, completely forgotten.

Yusuke Kitagawa

• When Yusuke shows up to your house, he’s a little panicked; laundry day is fast approaching and he hasn’t seen his button-up uniform shirt since sliding it to your bedroom floor in the throes of passion. He crosses his fingers as he opens the door to your room, hoping it was where he left. It’s not, though. It’s draped on you, hiding your figure as you lounge on your bed. Yusuke gulps, blushing; suddenly laundry day is the last thing on his mind.
• “You look sublime,” Yusuke blurts, scrambling in his bag for his sketchbook and pencils. “Stay still, just like that…” sudden sketches are the norm for Yusuke, and he’s determined to capture this image on paper forever; trying to stop him is futile. Something about you wearing his shirt sends tiny shockwaves through his chest. He doesn’t know exactly what it is but he’ll be damned if this delicious sight slips by without getting in his sketchbook.
• At first Yusuke’s focused on the paper in front of him, but as he sketches out the lines of your curves and the folds of his shirt clinging to you he can’t help but lose interest in his pencil. He tries to force himself to pay attention to his sketchbook but the way you’ve got the top buttons open, showing off a hint of cleavage…the fabric tightening around your bust…the hem resting just under your panties…Yusuke can’t help but stare, pupils blown.
• Sketchbook and pencils clatter to the floor, forgotten, as Yusuke snaps. In a flash, Yusuke’s hovering over you, his thumb tracing your lips. He slips a knee between your thighs as his mouth drops to your neck, kissing lines against your skin. “It’s too easy to abandon all control when I’m with you,” he pants against your neck. Swift, his hands fall to his shirt buttons. When they don’t come apart quickly enough he growls, tearing wildly. Buttons fly everywhere; he’ll have to fix that, eventually, but it’s worth it to feel you up.
• Yusuke’s long fingers clench in his shirt fabric as he pounds into you. The sheer scandalousness makes him blush as he hits your sweet spot, but you look so damn good wrapped in his shirt, face flushed, mouth open, that he can’t bring himself to care.      

Goro Akechi

• When you show up to an autumn date with just a light sweater, Akechi knows it’s only a time before you’re downright frozen in the mid-October air. “Here,” he shrugs off his tan blazer, “you should put this on. I can’t have you catching a cold on my watch.” Goro smiles sweetly as he slides the wool over your shoulders. A little shiver of dread tumbles down his spine as he thinks about how cold he’s going to be at the end of the night-he hates the cold- but, well, it’s his duty as a chivalrous boyfriend to make sure you’re nice and toasty while he’s losing toes to frostbite.
• As it turns out, the cold isn’t too harsh for Goro after all; seeing you wrapped up in his blazer, filling it out just perfectly, sends a gentle warmth all the way to his fingertips. A gentle blush blooms over from his cheeks as he drinks the sight in, unashamed; he doesn’t care if you notice how utterly in love with you he is. You’re too beautiful; it would be a sin to look away.
• Once you’re back at Akechi’s apartment, safely tucked away from the world and the howling wind outside, Goro starts to focus on…other aspects of your beauty. The sort of aspects that include you spread out over his comforter, hands balling in his hair, his head between your thighs. Akechi gulps as dirty thoughts swirl around in his head; who knew such a small thing as you wearing his jacket could have such an effect on him?
• “You manage to pull off that jacket much better than I do,” Akechi murmurs against your neck, hands roaming over your body. When his fingers graze over your hips he pulls you against him, grinding just lightly enough to get you breathing heavy. It’s clear what Goro wants as he leads you to the couch, pushing you down.
• Akechi peels your pants down, sinking to his knees as the clothes fall away. Soon, you’re in just his coat as his expert tongue works between your legs. He intends to show you just how much he loves the sight of you wearing his clothes.