resluvv

you showed up behind him in every mission, clinging to him as if you were truly scared of the curses.

"...you don't have to follow me."

megumi grumbled out, taking a sharp left down the corridor of the abandoned warehouse. you were supposed to split up and search for the curse. he knew it was pointless to even ask for you to seperate from him.

"i'm scared, megumi! cmon, aren't you scared of me being eaten alive?!"

you practically barked out, voice echoing through the endless maze. if you actually payed attention to one detail at a time, you'd notice megumi flinching at your voice.

"you say that everytime. you're not scared of anything, [name]."

megumi commented. yet and still, the entire mission, you continued following him around.

megumi just couldn't catch a break!

another little habit of yours... bringing him little trinkets entirely unprompted.

things like keychains, broken zippers, rocks that you deemed were "pretty" (even though it was covered in dirt...) and anything else that you found worthy of being a gift.

despite his grumbles in protest, megumi had a safe space on his desk just for the little random trinkets.

he accepts them everytime, still pointlessly asking why you brought him a tiny bone that looked it belong to some poor tiny animal.

you'd just grin, ears flopping to the side as you tilted your head.

"i found it! do you like it?"

while megumi might be grumpy, constantly grumbling under his breath about how obnoxious you are... he doesn't withdraw. he lets it happen.

and part of him knows he should reinforce your behaviors... maybe even discipline you like training a puppy.

yet, his heart melts just a little watching you enjoy yourself. he could never bring himself to scold you properly.

Suddenly, Gojo has all the reasons lined up for you to why you shouldn’t get another cat.

“The economy isn’t doing that well now, you’ll waste money on double the food”

“There would be more fur to sweep”

“I saw a vet online saying how much she doesn’t recommend more than one hybird. Another lady confirmed”

He just kept rambling about all the excuses he could come up with to try and convince you. But you’ve made up your mind already, so you just smile at him; blinking a few times.

ᓚᘏ𑄝  ⋆˚🐾˖   ᓚᘏ𑄝  ⋆˚🐾˖°   ᓚᘏ𑄝

Geto was added as a new member to the house, and Gojo couldn’t be less happy about that. He intended to make it known.

“Please don’t tell me you’ll shower him” He whines into your shoulder as he clings to you from behind, his hands fisting into your shirt in the front, a white tail spiraling up your leg.

“I did it with you when you came here, too” You try, one hand over his, your thumb rubbing back and forth gently over his knuckles.

“But he’s FILTHY!” He whisper-shouts, his lips near your ear. You feel a twitching, soft ear tickle your hair.

“Yeah, Toru, that’s why he needs a bath” you giggle nervously, trying to slip away from Gojo’s clawing grip, Geto stands awkwardly beside you. Waiting. Watching the scene unfold in front of him in intrigue.

Gojo catches the sly smile Geto sends his way and he must hold himself back from hissing – only because he’s this close to your ear.

“I meant on the inside!” Gojo tries to argue with you, hugging you impossible close into him from behind, pulling you flush against his overly warm chest.

“Satoru Gojo, pull yourself together” his white ears flatten against his head, his grip around you loosening in defeat.

“Just look at him….” He grumbles, reluctantly letting go of you once you start squirming too much against him. Geto only puts on an innocent face, smiling with his eyes nearly closing into slits.

Gojo isn’t fooled by his acting. Not one bit.

You grab Getos hand, taking him along with you into the bathroom, a towel flung on your other arm.

Gojo seethes with anger and jealousy, growling to himself. He lost to a stupid black cat!

With you facing the other way, Geto turns to look at him over his shoulder, sticking out his tongue before you both disappear into the bathroom.

ᓚᘏ𑄝  ⋆˚🐾˖   ᓚᘏ𑄝  ⋆˚🐾˖°   ᓚᘏ𑄝

When stepping out of the shower, you’re surprised to see how calm and collected Gojo appears to be. He’s sitting on the couch all patient and content, smiling at you. His tail is a little too still for your liking, but you brush past that.

 He must be adjusting, finally – you decide. It will take some time before he learns to share you.

“I can dry his hair myself. It would be fruitful to try and get to know one another.” Gojo proposes with a too bright smile. “A hybrid-to-hybrid talk”

You beam at the idea, despite how Gojo’s tail only gets this unactive when something is brewing. You push that thought aside, clasping your hands together “Great!”

Geto stiffens beside you, his black ears standing straight up, tail not swishing softly behind him anymore like it did in the shower. “I-…” he cuts himself off short, knowing that saying anything would make him out to be the bad guy here. Especially with how Gojo worded things, as if it’s all for a really good cause.

Curse that white cat.

And so the two find themselves alone in Gojo’s room.

“Don’t think I’m falling for your innocent act. I can smell your filth from a hundred miles away”

“Cats can only smell up to 1,5 to 4 miles away” Geto corrects lazily, sitting stiffly on the edge of the bed with Gojo behind him. It’s unnerving having someone in his blind spot, let alone him.

“Shut it, smart mouth” Gojo hisses, grabbing a chunk of Getos inky hair spilling over his shoulder and tugging on it, both of their ears on high alert, twitching at every little motion and sound that the other makes.

“OW! Let go, you stupid leech! She’s mine!” you sit outside in the living room, hearing small muffled sounds slipping from behind Gojo's bedroom door. You pay it no mind, figuring Gojo must have tugged at a hair knot.

It cant be that bad, right?

“You dare?!” Their cat-fight starts, with Gojo yanking at Getos hair once again, harder this time. Geto winces, his neck bent at an odd angle. Full on screams can be heard from Gojo's room by now.

Okay, maybe it is that bad.

“What are you doing to him!” You barge in, seeing Gojo holding onto Geto’s inky hair, his black ear twitching frantically. Gojo’s white fluffy ear twitch once at you seeing him like this.

“I promise you its not like tha-“

“He yanked at my hair” Geto cuts him off, batting his eyes up at you, his tone oddly soft when he was yelling a second ago.

Gojo notices the performance Geto is putting on, only serving to boil his blood even further, prompting him to lurch over and scratch his sharp nails over the black hybrid’s arm.

You step in immediately, your fingers threading seamlessly through Gojo’s soft white hair, tugging gently back at the base, careful not to hurt him as you separate them. Gojo seems to lean into your touch despite the chaotic scene he’s in. “Alright, that’s enough. You’re not stepping out of here until midnight”

Your words seem to have an immediate effect on the poor white cat, his ears turning droopy, flopping back against his white fluff of hair. His eyes silently plead with yours, a pout painting on his lips as you drag Geto out.

You throw him a sharp look over your shoulder. “Bad cat”, then shut the door behind you, leaving your white cat to reflect on his actions and mull it over.

ᓚᘏ𑄝  ⋆˚🐾˖   ᓚᘏ𑄝  ⋆˚🐾˖°   ᓚᘏ𑄝

The light spilling from the window diminished nearly fully, reminding you that Gojo’s punishment has been over since a while ago. He hasn’t stepped out of his room yet.

Geto is curled into your side on the couch the light sound of the movie playing drowning to your ears as you get up to check on Gojo. Geto doesn’t move to stop you - save for his tail tightening around your thigh before he lets go all together, his gaze following you.

“Gojo, are you coming?”

No response. Only the sound of shuffling and someone tossing in bed.

“Your punishment is long past” You coax softly, bending down to peek under the door gap. There you can make out the silhouette of a tall male laying face-first on his bed, a fluffy tail curling into his side.

He only gets into this position when he’s feeling down. Maybe you were a little harsh on him earlier.

The doorknob is useless. He locked himself in there. Poor kitty.Your heart throbs at your own reckless actions.

You rush to your feet, speeding to the drawer with all your snacks and candy. Getos head peeks over the couch behind you, curiously watching what you’re doing.

Grabbing Gojo’s favorite candy – the sweetest you had bought not long ago just for him – you speed your way back to the locked door.

“Pspspsps” You caregully shove pieces of candy under the door gap, one after the other. “Come here, kitty kitty” you singsong, hoping this would trick him to come out.

Silence.

“Who’s my pretty boy?” you’re starting to get desperate here. He’s refusing to come out.

“Me!” Geto exclaims from the couch, tail swaying in content.

You give him a small chuckle before turning back to Gojo behind the door.

"..."

“Ill let you snuggle me to sleep.”

The door unlocks with a sad looking Gojo on the other side, his bright blue eyes finding Geto, sending him a quick, nasty glare before returning his gaze back to yours.

He’s sulking with a pout on, mushrooms practically growing from his head. His ears flopingp backwards, his tail motionless, hugging his own leg.

“Oh, baby” You step closer, your heart thumping painfully at the sight of a defeated Gojo. Leaning in, you wrap your arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. He’s so warm.

“Am I not enough for you? Do I bore you?” He results to ask lastly, his speech stripped off his hurried speed and livelyhood, tone quieter.

You stop in your tracks, his stiff tail visible through your peripheral vision. Stepping closer, you reach out to him, palms cupping his soft cheeks on both sides. “I’m not doing this because I don’t want you anymore, Gojo. You'd be mistaken to think that”

You nearly whisper out, your words escaping your mouth like a soft breeze. God, that cat keeps tugging at your heartstrings.

“I wanted to get you a new friend to keep you company when I’m not around” You whisper into his chest, taking in his usual scent of melted sugar.

He grumbles a little, before you feel a long fluffy tail wrap around your waist, bringing you closer into him. “He said he’d take you away from me” He rests his chin atop your head, his heartbeat seeming to slow at your touch.

Gojo doesn’t waste the chance to send another dirty glare towards a scowling Geto, silently plotting to pull at his black tail in your sleep. That would serve him right.

Your heart squeezes, lips puckering in a sympathetic pout. Pulling back, you look up into Gojo’s eyes, only to see the pitiful soft look he’s giving you. Ouch. That soft hearted, sweet cat of yours.

You lift a hand, resting it on his white, fluffy ear, our thumb and index finger working in tandem to gently massage at the sweet spot you know of on his ear. It silently twitches in your hand once before he relaxes completely at just this simple touch of yours.

“You know id never replace you” You whisper, unable to voice your words properly when you have a big, tall man like him looking down at you with such adorable eyes – it crumbles all of your resolves.

He intends to hum in acknowledgment, but your touch on his sensitive ears kinda melted his brain a little. A soft purr rolls of his tongue instead. You giggle, his tail demanding you stand closer despite there being no more space left between you.

A loud thumping sound starts behind you. Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.

“Come, lets go sit with him too before he hisses at me” you chuckle as you make your way back to the couch where Geto sits, with a reluctant Gojo in your tow – agreeing to this only because you’re there.

His tail gives him off every time. It’s adorable.

Sitting there between them and picking a new show to watch, you grow slightly annoyed by how they keep trying to pull you closer to their sides.

“Alright” you huff out a breath, getting up only to sit back down – horizontally; with you on Geto’s lap, and your head resting in Gojo’s lap.

“See, leech? She’s sitting on MY lap”

“She has her head in MY lap, you monkey”

“We're the same species, idiot”

Sighing, you lift your hands above your head. “Shhh” lazily, you curl your fingers under their chin, scratching gently at that soft area of skin – right there.

Smiling, you turn back to enjoy your show, both of them silent save for the small purring sounds they’re making – their body growing warmer underneath you

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ᯓ★ Satoru Gojo

You were currently making breakfast, early in the morning. What should’ve been twenty minutes of baking turned into forty-five, since this wasn’t your kitchen and you weren’t yet familiar with it. 

That’s right, you were in your boyfriend’s kitchen. This was the first time ever that you’d slept over. 

The two of you hadn’t gone there yet, you just fell asleep entangled with one another after watching a cheesy movie. You were grateful for how patient he was, never rushing you into something you weren’t a hundred percent certain of.

So to show your gratitude and affection, you decided you’d get up early and make him pancakes. You knew he loved his sweets at any time of the day.

After rummaging through every cabinet and drawer, you’d eventually managed to gather all ingredients and tools necessary. And now, you waited for them to cook over the stove, flipping them every so often. 

Your intense focus on them was what made you inattentive to Satoru’s arrival into the kitchen.

“Morning.” he yawned, ducking his head under the doorframe to walk through. 

You flinch a little, caught off guard by his presence. “Good morning… I didn’t hear you come in.” you glance at him over your shoulder, spatula still at the ready near the pancakes.

He simply smiled in response, before his eyes landed on the kitchentop. “What’cha making?”

You moved sideways to give him a better view of the food. “Pancakes. Thought you’d probably like something sweet.”

His eyes light up at the words ‘pancakes’ and ‘sweet’, and he makes his way over to you. “You know me so well.”

You chuckle softly before turning back to the stove, and flipping a pancake over. 

“You should’ve stayed in bed with me longer though…” he speaks in a more hushed tone now. 

You feel your cheeks flush just a bit, and let out a nervous laugh.

Standing behind you now—or rather, towering—his arms carefully wrap themselves around your soft waist, and he rests his chin on your head, watching you as you cook. “Thought you ran away from me,” he mutters softly, tilting his head to press kisses to your cheek, and down the curve of your jaw.

Unable to contain them, giggles erupt out of you at the ticklish feeling. “Satoru, come on, stop—” your shoulder meets the side of your face in an attempt to shield yourself from his affectionate attacks. 

But he moves to pepper kisses on the other side of your face that’s still left unguarded. He laughs along with you, in between pecks, whilst letting out exaggerated kissy noises. 

Your heart felt full in a way you never could’ve imagined. You couldn’t have been happier.

That was, until he’d started wiggling his fingers. 

They tickled you all over, from your stomach, to your back, to your sides, and even your arms. 

You squirmed, your body jerking in all directions while laughter bubbled out of your throat at the sensation. 

“Satoru—” you breathed out desperately. 

That only seemed to spur him on, as he continued with more precision. 

This time, his hands slid under your shirt to meet your skin. 

And that’s when your stomach dropped, your eyes shooting wide open.

You managed to grab a hold of his wrists, and tried pulling his hands away from your waist. 

But he didn’t pay you any mind, obviously too strong for you to actually tug him away from you.

It wasn’t until you felt his thumb lightly brush over one of your stomach rolls that you mustered up newfound strength. 

“I said stop!” you shout, pulling him away even harder. 

At that, he finally pauses, and pulls his hands away and out from under your shirt, but keeps them hovering near your form. 

Your hands are still encircled around his own, and he lets you catch your breath for a little bit before speaking.

“... You okay?” he asks, his voice soft, and his tone careful. At your silence, he feels the need to talk again. “What’s wrong?”

You’re still a little shaken, unsure of what to do or say. “Nothing—” you start but choke up.

He pulls away from you fully, and instead steps to the side to properly face you. He stares at you in silence, waiting for you to finish talking. But when you never do, he takes the initiative. “Did I do something wrong?”

You sigh deeply before turning the stove off. “No… you didn’t.”

He takes a step closer and keeps quiet. But you know he wants to know more. 

“I just… I don’t want you to touch me there. Anywhere but there.” you cross your arms over your chest, as if to hide your body.

He looks utterly confused, eyebrows furrowed. “Why?”

You finally look up at him and deadpan. “Satoru, please… you know why.” your hands unconsciously clench around the extra skin of your sides.

He continues looking down at you, perplexed. But once he finally understands what you’re hinting at, his eyes soften.

“So that’s what this is about?” he mutters.

You look to the side, refusing to give him an answer. 

“Look at me when I’m talking to you.” his hand finds your chin as he brings it towards him. 

You reluctantly look back up at him. You feel your throat close up, and your eyes water. 

He immediately brings you closer, hands cupping your face and thumbs near your eyes, ready to wipe your tears the moment they spill. 

“I’m sorry, I’m being such a crybaby.” you sniffle as your vision blurs. 

“What’re you apologizing for? Stop that.” he brushes some hair out of your face.

You lean into his hand, the plumpness of your cheek growing more prominent in doing so. He nearly melts at the sight of it.

“I’m not… I’m not nice to hold, Satoru. My body isn’t one to be held and loved. I don’t deserve that.”

Now he just looks offended. He stammers for a moment as his eyes widen. “And why not? Because you weigh a couple extra pounds?”

You nod against his palm, eyes closed. 

“That’s such bullshit,” he scoffs. His face slowly inches closer to yours and he kisses your temple. “You’re beautiful.”

You open your eyes to roll them, your gaze landing on the floor. “Don’t lie to me because you feel bad.”

“I’m not lying—why would you even say that?” he asks incredulously. 

Despite how bewildered and offended he looks, he’s still softly cradling your head and wiping your tears away.

“You care way too much what other people think, you know that?” he sighs. “I think you’re beautiful, and that’s all there is to it. I’m not worrying about your weight, or how your stomach looks in a shirt, or how you feel when I hold you. None of that ever mattered to me.”

You’re stunned, watery eyes wide open as you stare at him.

He presses a kiss to your forehead this time. “That last one might’ve been a lie actually,” he chuckles against your skin before kissing it again. “I like holding you. You’re soft, and warm, and… I just like it. I like you, okay? Stop overthinking it. You worry too much.”

Your bottom lip juts out as you feel yourself tearing up again. 

“Aw, poor baby,” he chuckles again at the sight.

You huff in a frustrated manner. “God, what is wrong with me? I keep crying…”

He only laughs louder. “Nothing’s wrong with you.” He moves to pepper kisses all over your face, lingering on all of your features. “You’re just not used to being appreciated.” his voice softens.

You give up on trying to force the tears away, and just let them roll down your cheeks. The two of you stare at each other in silence. Your eyes sweep back and forth between his own. 

Fluttering white lashes and bright blue eyes stare at you with love and fondness you thought you’d never receive, or deserve. 

“Thank you.” you mutter silently, wanting to say more, but finding yourself unable to.

He kisses your cheek, smooshing his lips against it in amusement. Once he pulls away, he speaks. 

“You’re welcome.”

ᯓ★ Suguru Geto

It had been a long day. Suguru always had long and tedious errands to run from dawn to dusk, but today had been particularly slow and arduous.

Which is why he was looking forward to falling asleep with you in his arms.

Originally, you were supposed to spend the night at your place like any other day. But after receiving a couple text messages from him complaining about his shitty day, you figured the least you could do was offer him comfort. So you’d gone to his place. 

As expected, he arrived rather late, but you didn’t mind. Despite your protests and insistence on him eating dinner, he refused. The only thing he wanted was to sink into his king-sized bed with you tightly clutched to his chest.

With reluctance, you obliged. 

So here you were, buried under the covers with Suguru. With his hair splayed out on the pillows and mattress, and his soft but tired features, he looked like he’d jumped out of a renaissance painting. 

Usually, he’d be the one spooning you. But tonight, he just needed to be the one taken care of for a change. 

His head was nestled right under your chin, cheek resting against your chest. 

But there was something else different about him tonight. He was being far more clingy and touchy than usual. You weren’t sure if it was unconsciously done or not, but either way, it was starting to get to you. 

His hands had started at a respectful resting place, your hips. But as more minutes passed, they slowly inched closer to the hem of your shirt. Eventually, he’d managed to slip them under the fabric. 

You tried to ignore the rapid beating of your heart, and the heat rushing to your face. 

His large hands splayed across the expanse of your back carefully inched up, up, and up. 

Until you couldn’t take it anymore. 

The second he touched a particularly pudgy area, you hissed, and pushed him away instinctively.

He opened his eyes in surprise and stared up at you.

You sit up, and stare back at him, equally as shocked.

The silence drags on as he slowly props himself up on an elbow. When he realizes you don’t plan on explaining yourself, he decides to take the initiative.

“Something wrong?” he asks, his voice slightly raspy from fatigue.

You open and close your mouth a couple times before finding the words. “No,” is all you can muster as you fold your legs closer to you under the blanket. Your eyes land on your hands as you fidget with them.

He eyes you skeptically, clearly unconvinced. “... you sure?”

You nod, still staring at your hands. 

His firm palm encircles them, forcing you to look back at him. 

“Don’t lie to me angel. Talk to me.”

You hesitate for a moment, but one of your hands moves to intertwine with his own. He returns the gesture almost immediately, his fingers tightly lacing themselves with yours.  

You sigh deeply. “I’m sorry for reacting like that, it’s not because of you.”

He quirks an eyebrow. “What is it then?”

“I just… I wasn’t expecting you to touch me like that.”

He looks at you perplexed. “... So it is because of me?”

Your lips part, and you find yourself speechless. 

He only chuckles, finding amusement in your inability to put him at fault for something. After a little while, he settles down, regaining a serious demeanor. 

“Did you not expect it, or did you not want it?”

You’re once again stunned. How was he able to read you so well?

“... both.” you look away, guilty. 

He brushes some hair out of your face and tucks it behind your ear, cupping your jaw to make you look at him. 

“Can I ask why you didn’t want it? You don’t usually reject my advances.”

You shrug. “I know, but…” you trail off, letting silence take over.

“Use your words. I’m listening.”

“I don’t want you to feel those parts of my body.” You finally spit out. “You know… the bad parts.”

At your words, he finally sits up, as if having understood the gravity of the situation.

He calls your name. “... look at me.”

You do so, albeit reluctantly. 

“There are no bad parts of your body.” His eyebrows are furrowed, and his jaw clenches tightly.

You feel a knot form in your stomach. “But I—” you choke up.

“None. Do you hear me?”

You grow quiet once more, and he can feel you slipping away from him, and back into a self-depricating spiral. 

Without thinking twice, he pulls you by the waist and firmly plants you into his lap. 

“I can handle you not wanting me to touch you because you’re not ready yet.” he starts, his hands trailing up from your sides to cup your jaw. “But I can’t handle you thinking of yourself in this way.”

You lean into his touch.

“You’re too beautiful to be having these thoughts.” He whispers. Suguru leans in, his nose nuzzling your own before he starts littering your face with feathery kisses. “So precious,” he hums against the plush skin of your cheeks. “Mine.”

You suppress a small whimper, feeling overwhelmed by his presence, and the complicated mix of emotions swirling in your head.

You wanted to believe the harsh voice in your head. The one that told you he wasn’t being sincere, that he’d eventually leave you, that you weren’t deserving because of the way you looked. 

But it was starting to get hard to listen to that voice when he was holding you like you were made of porcelain. Like you were his most prized possession. Like he truly believed in every word he spoke to you, without an inkling of a doubt.

“Suguru…”

He shushes you. “Don’t argue with me on this.” He makes sure you’re silent by kissing you once more, stealing the breath right out of your lungs. Feeling your breath hitch against his lips, he pulls back just enough so you can breathe. In the meantime, he resorts to kissing the tip of your nose. 

The two of you are silent for a while, simply basking in and enjoying the other’s warmth and proximity. 

“… do you really mean it?” You finally ask, voice a little raspy. 

“Every word.” He responds in an instant. 

At his words, you feel your face flush even more, and you can now feel the warmth spread from your cheeks to the tip of your ears. Too flustered and winded to speak again, you decide to hide your face in his chest. 

His arms wrap around you, and he presses a kiss to the top of your head. 

“Go to sleep angel,” he says, although he’s already moving to bring you back down on the mattress along with him. His hand rubs soothing circles over your back. 

He makes sure not to linger too much on the areas you were jumpy about, out of concern. But when he feels you melt against him, like you were meant to be right there with him, in his arms, he relaxes as well. 

“Goodnight.” He mutters one last time before the two of you drift off into sleep.

ᯓ★ Kento Nanami

Saturdays were the best. You loved them because the weekend was just starting, and you didn’t have to worry about monday just yet. 

Oh, and also because you typically spent your Saturdays at Kento’s place. 

The two of you had taken the morning slow, only getting out of bed at eleven. You made breakfast (which was basically lunch) together, eating it by the window of his apartment. 

And now, it was three o’clock. You’d been lying in his arms on the couch, lazing about. 

He was holding up a book with one hand, glasses resting low on his nosebridge to read, while his other hand caressed your back. You felt yourself dozing off, your cheek smooshed against his chest while your arms remained loosely wrapped around his waist. You’d been lying down together for so long that your heart rates synced up.

Feeling drowsiness overcome him as well, Kento closed his book and set it on the coffee table within reach. His now free hand joined his other one on your back as he continued tracing patterns against the soft fabric of your cotton shirt.

You were slightly on edge. It’s not that you didn’t trust him or anything, it’s just that you were still new to this relationship with him. And you were also still unfamiliar with letting someone be so close to you physically speaking. 

Of course, Kento knew that. That’s why he always insisted on going at your pace.

Which is why you assumed his unusual touchiness right now was not a conscious effort, but rather a product of his half-asleep state.

His strong and large palms carefully trailed down your spine as he pressed his lips to the top of your head. 

Suddenly, your shirt lifted at the hem ever so slightly to let him in. The tips of his fingers affectionately prodding at your plush skin. 

You tried ignoring it at first. He had been so patient with you, maybe it was time for you to make a little more effort and open up to him as well. 

But when you felt his touch wander a bit too high up for your taste, you jumped out of his grasp, sitting up on the couch, still lodged between his legs.

That seems to wake him up, and slightly startle him. His glasses fall off his nose and land on his chest. He stares at you dumbfounded for a moment before picking them up and setting them on the table near his book. 

“Is something the matter…?” he finally speaks up, propping himself on his elbows to sit up properly and look at you. 

You stare back at him with guilt, and a hint of fear. Fear of disappointing him, fear of making him wait too much, fear of him finding you just as repulsing as you found yourself. Fear of having ruined everything.

He inches closer towards you without actually invading your space. “Hey, stay with me.”

You snap out of it. “... Sorry.”

He quirks an eyebrow, even more confused than before. “Don’t apologize. What’s wrong?”

You look into his sincere hazel eyes for a moment as silence passes. Letting out a sigh, your gaze darts to your lap instead. “It’s stupid.”

He sighs as well, but heavier, before running a hand through his hair. “I can assure you it’s not. I can’t force you to talk to me but—”

“I don’t want you to feel my rolls.” you cut him off, the words leaving your mouth before you can think twice. “Or my extra fat… or my stretch marks.” you add.

His mouth, still open from when you cut his sentence short, closes and he seems to contemplate something before answering.

“I… understand. I’m sorry for overstepping.” he looks away as well, unable to meet your eyes. “If I may ask… why?”

You scoff, but not in a mocking way. Moreso in disbelief. “Because they’re not nice to feel. They’re… ugly. I don’t want you to see that side of me.”

He finally meets your gaze again, this time with a scowl. “What did you just say?”

You feel your heart drop at his glare, but try to play it off by shrugging. “Kento, let’s be honest here… they’re not cute. No need for sugarcoating.”

He runs a hand down his face, and then massages the top of his nosebridge. 

Oh, now you’ve done it. You knew it. You knew you weren’t ready for this. No one would ever accept you with your insecurities. And yet you still decided to pursue this relationship with him. You should’ve known better.

You wish a giant crack would appear in his floorboards and swallow you whole. You wanted to get up, and run out of his apartment. You wanted to disappear. 

But you knew there was no running now. You’d put yourself in this situation, self-sabotaging as always. 

“I’m sorry… forget I said anything.” you mutter, already moving to untangle yourself from his legs.

He stops you however, lightly holding onto your wrists and pulling you back down towards him, closer than before.

His gaze is still downcast and he sighs heavily. “Don’t go, I already told you you had nothing to be sorry for.” he looks up at you again, but this time his gaze is soft yet apprehensive, as if he was afraid of saying the wrong thing. He whispers your name before resuming, making sure he had your full attention.

“You don’t understand just how much it pains me to hear you talk about yourself in such a way. I have never, and I will never tolerate anyone speaking ill of you, including yourself.” slowly but surely, as if to give you the option to pull away, he tugs you closer until you’re a mere breath away from one another. 

“I know it might be hard for you to believe me, and I know that flowery words won’t be enough to change the mindset you’ve clung to for so long. But I mean it when I say you’re beautiful to me.”  

You feel your eyes start to sting, water pooling in the rims of your bottom lids. “How?”

The second he catches a glimpse of your tears, he pulls you into him, burying your face in his chest while you sob quietly. “I can’t explain it, words aren’t enough.” he whispers against your hair. “Just… trust me on this, okay? You might not love yourself at the moment, but know that I love you, more than you’ll ever know.”

Your hands fist against the fabric of his sweater as you continue crying.

“All I ask is that you try to see yourself the way I see you. You don’t have to do it overnight of course, but… I’ll be here for you.” His lips caress your cheek, now wet with tear tracks. “Along every step of the way.” his hand finds your chin to pull you away from his body so he can look you in the eyes.

Your eyes are bloodshot and glossy as you stare back at him. “... thank you.” you huff, trying to reign in your emotions.

He doesn’t say anything, instead opting for brushing your hair out of your face and caressing your cheek with the back of his hand. 

“I love you,” he mutters. “Remember that whenever you find it hard to love yourself.”

You nod, and he swipes his thumbs against your bottom lids to dry the last of your tears.

ᯓ★ Yuji Itadori

The last time you’d seen your (recent) boyfriend Yuji was about two weeks ago. You were both swarmed with your own personal lives. And it was killing him, quite frankly. 

At last, when you were both free, you’d invited him to spend a couple days at your place. 

So far, you’d spent the whole day doing nothing and everything, and decided to finish it off with a movie marathon (his suggestion, of course). 

Perhaps it was those two weeks without seeing you that had him acting so strangely. 

He was being awfully clingy. But you didn’t mind. You had missed him too after all.

The two of you were laying on your couch with the only source of lighting being the tv. He was lying on top of you, head resting against your chest and his hair tickling your collarbone. His arms were tightly wrapped around your middle while his eyes stayed glued to the screen.

Your hands were nestled in his hair as you played with the spiky pink strands. You look down at him for a moment and notice the way his feet hang off the end of the sofa, the sight almost making you laugh. You’d suggested letting him have the couch so he could be more comfortable, but he had insisted that your current position was more than comfortable enough to him.

You couldn’t say the same however.

His hands made a very slow ascent on your body. One so subtle you wouldn’t have noticed if you weren’t so on edge and, well, insecure.

You try to ignore it at first, but when you feel him tenderly squeeze at your plush skin like it was something he always did, you couldn’t take it anymore.

You jumped, startled by the sudden touch. He lifted his head away from your chest and looked up at you as he rose to sit up. “What’s up? Is there a spider? I can kill it for you—” he starts, already looking around for a slipper or anything he could use to kill the arachnid.

You stare at him baffled. “What? No!”

He returns your stunned look. “Oh… then why’d you jump?”

“Because you—” you stutter, embarrassed. “Because you touched my stomach, and my… my rolls.”

“What? I.. I didn’t even realize.” His gaze softens, and his shoulders drop from their upright posture. “… sorry.” he scratches at the back of his neck and looks away. 

You look down at yourself and hug your knees to your chest, seeking to cloak yourself from his gaze. 

Yuji notices the gesture out of the corners of his eyes, and he feels a sharp twist in his heart. Like he knew there was more to this, and that it was bad. But he was too scared to push.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” you shrug it off, still staring at your legs.

But that dismissal doesn’t do it for him. 

“Why the stomach?” he asks.

You snap your eyes back up at him. “... What?”

“Why are you jumpy about your stomach?” he asks again, more firmly this time. “I mean… we’ve kissed and hugged and stuff. Why is it a problem now?” his head tilts, in genuine curiosity.

But the second he notices how defensive you look, he scrambles to explain himself.

“Fuck, wait, I didn’t mean it like that.” he drags his hands down his face and sighs heavily into them. A few seconds go by and he pulls away from them to glance up at you with furrowed eyebrows. “I just wanna know. But I’m not gonna force you into anything… of course.”

You relax a little bit, feeling more at ease.

He notices that and speaks up again. “I mean… it’s not because you’re insecure or anything, right? ‘Cause that would be kinda stupid.” he scoffs.

His small smile quickly fades once he takes in your silence and realizes that it is, indeed, an insecurity thing.

Your gaze drops lower.

“... Why? You’re beautiful.” he says it like it’s the most irrefutable fact in the universe. A fact that doesn’t even require evidence to be proven true. A fact he thought was an evident and unspoken truth between you two.

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. “Don’t sugarcoat.”

“I’m not—you seriously don't think you're beautiful?” he stares at you incredulously.

You lift your eyes to finally look up at him. But you freeze. You don’t know what to say, or do. You don’t even remember how you got in this situation in the first place.

You watch as his hands slowly reach out to rest on top of your knees. They trail down and caress the sides of your thighs, his eyes remaining on yours the entire time.

“Listen, I don’t know how you’re not seeing what I’m seeing, but… I find you pretty. Really pretty.” he mutters, refusing to break eye contact. “I’ve never looked at you and wished you looked different. A number on a scale doesn’t mean anything to me.”

The moment your eyes water and your knees drop in defeat, he pulls you into his lap with ease, as if you weighed nothing. As if your weight was nothing to him. 

His arms wrap around your middle as you cry into his shoulder. He moves to lean back against the couch and shifts his hips so you’re more comfortable. He doesn’t say anything for a while, instead just letting you cry and vent out your frustrations.

He carefully strokes your hair until he feels your shoulders relax against him. “... you okay?”

You sniffle, trying to collect yourself, and pull away to look up at him through your wet lashes. His shirt is soaked, and the side of your face is still planted against it, but he doesn’t mind. 

You blink a couple times to focus your vision before answering with a raspy ‘yes’.

He leans down but stops, hesitating for a moment as he scans your features. When he realizes you’re comfortable enough, his lips meet yours in a soft kiss. It doesn’t last long, but it’s enough to leave you dizzy.

“I’m the luckiest guy in the world, y’know that? To have such a beautiful girlfriend like you.” he presses a lingering kiss to your wet cheek. “There isn’t a single day that goes by without me thinking that. You’re the first thing I think of when I wake up.”

You wipe at your tears lazily, feeling fatigue take over you now. Your eyes now dart back and forth between his own before you whisper a barely audible ‘thank you’.

He only smiles in response. “Don’t thank me for that, seriously.” he chuckles.

You chuckle along with him because that was such a Yuji thing for him to say. 

He feels a weight lift from his chest at the sight of you laughing, and leans down one final time to kiss your lips. “I love you.” he murmurs against them, his thumbs still gently carding through your hair.

ᯓ★ Megumi Fushiguro

Everything sucked. Shitty day, shitty weather, shitty mission, shitty curses, shitty late trains, shitty everything.

The only thing that didn’t suck though—the one thing that kept Megumi pushing through everything—was the thought of coming back home to you lying in his bed.

With every step he took towards his home, he replayed the scene in his head another time. 

He’d open the door to his bedroom, slam it shut behind him, shed the unnecessarily heavy jacket on his body, and fall straight into your arms while you welcomed him with that bright smile of yours he swore fixed everything.

And now, after his long and arduous day, he’d finally arrived.

He closed the door behind him, kicked his shoes off, and made a straight line to his room. But you weren’t on his bed like he expected you to be. You weren’t even in the room, actually. 

Suddenly, the door leading to his bathroom opens, and you step out of it and into his room. “Hey, you’re back.” you smile and walk over to him. “Sorry, I went to turn the shower on as soon as I heard you come in.”

Once he finally sees you, he lets out a little sigh of relief. Megumi could not have been happier that you’d said yes when he asked you if you could spend the night over at his place. 

You probably weren’t aware of it, but it meant everything to him.

Noticing he still hasn’t answered, you speak up again. “... I hope that’s okay with you.”

He walks over to you, ridding himself of his jacket in the process and tossing it in his laundry basket. “It is. Thank you.” He leans down, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. “Give me five minutes,” he mutters before walking past you and closing the bathroom door behind him.

You go to lie down on the bed and scroll on your phone while waiting for him to wash up.

You were surprised he’d texted you so last minute asking you to come over, but you figured it was probably needed. Maybe he’d had a bad day and needed some company.

At least that’s the explanation you were choosing to justify how clingy he was being now that he’d gotten in bed with you.

The two of you were lying on your sides, your flush bodies buried beneath the covers as his front pressed into your back. His arms were wrapped around your middle while he rested his chin into the crook of your neck. 

“... needed this.” he sighed against your skin. 

Meanwhile, you were trying to hold it together. Sure you two have been dating for almost two months now, but you still hadn’t gotten this close.

He continued pressing the occasional kiss to your neck, while his hands found themselves at the bottom hem of your shirt. 

“Um… Megumi?” you whispered, feeling your face burn up and your heartrate pick up.

“Hm?” he hummed, while his hands suddenly found themselves under your shirt.

“Megumi what are you—”

His fingers caressed the plush skin of your midriff. 

Your face went pale, your heart dropped, and your hands moved to get his own off of your body.

He stills, and stops his trail of kisses up to your earlobe. He’s taken-aback, unsure of what just happened, but waits for you to elaborate.

“I… sorry, I—” you stutter and fumble over your words. Letting his hands fall against the mattress, you sit up. You throw a brief glance at him over your shoulder, and notice his stunned look. Clearly, he’s still waiting on an explanation.

“What’s wrong?” he finally asks.

“Nothing, I…” you start, but end up looking away from him. Your shoulders drop and you look down at your lap. “I just wasn’t expecting you to get so… touchy.”

“... touchy?” he repeats, confused. This wasn’t the first time the two of you cuddled. 

You stay quiet, and your arms unconsciously move to fold themselves over your stomach, as if to hide it. 

Ever the analyst, Megumi watches the gesture, and it finally clicks in his head. His eyes soften. “... Fuck.” he sighs heavily. “I’m an idiot.”

At his words, you look back at him again. Your eyes meet once more.

“I’m sorry.” he mutters. “I didn’t realize you wouldn’t like that.” he searches your eyes, waiting for a response.

“... It’s fine.” you reply dismissively.

“It’s not.” he states firmly. “I should’ve asked first.”

You nod at him once, with a hum.

Silence settles between the two of you, both unsure of what to say next. He simply stares at you.

“You’re not gonna ask why?” you finally speak up.

“Why what?”

“Why I don’t want you touching my stomach.” you change your sitting position to fully face him.

His eyes widen for a moment before narrowing again. “... No. Do you want to tell me why?”

Your gaze drops to your hands in your lap. “... It’s a stupid reason, honestly.”

He sits up, and places one of his hands over your own. “Clearly, it’s not stupid if it has you feeling like this.”

Your bottom lip starts to quiver, and you lower your head even further, unable to look at him. 

His free hand moves to slot itself between your ear and neck, and he cranes your head to make you look up at him. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

When you meet his eyes, you force yourself to take a deep breath. “It’s just…” you start, and huff out another breath to try and calm down. “I don’t like my body and I don’t want you to see it, or feel it, or… I just don’t want you to leave me because of how I look.”

For the first time since he’s gotten home, Megumi scowls. “Seriously?”

You say nothing, nodding instead.

“That’s—” he starts but stutters. “That’s fucking stupid. I’m not going to leave you just because of the way you look.”

“… You say that now, but—“

“I’m not going to change my mind, Y/N.” His thumb caresses your cheek. “And for the record, nothing’s wrong with the way you look.”

You shake your head, tears pooling in your eyes.

His eyebrows only furrow further at the sight of your disagreement. “You’re beautiful.”

“But I’m…” 

“So? Do you really think I care about stuff like that?” 

You bury your face in your hands to try and silence your sobbing. His hands let go of you temporarily to wrap themselves around your body and pull you in.

His palms caress your back a little awkwardly at first, but he manages to ease into it. He lets you cry into his chest until you calm down. 

“I’m not good at this stuff, but… I meant everything I said, alright?”

You sniffle quietly, nodding against his shirt. 

“... I should’ve done a better job at making you feel good about yourself. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” your hands let go of your face to wrap around his neck. 

Tentatively, he lies back down on the mattress and pulls you along with him. You follow him willingly, and nuzzle against the crook of his neck.

“... are you okay?” he whispers against the top of your head.

You take a deep breath before talking. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“Okay, good.” he swallows the lump in his throat. “Go to sleep,” he tilts his head to the side, and presses a kiss to your temple.

You nuzzle further into him before whispering a soft “Goodnight.”

ᯓ★ Yuta Okkotsu

Today had been rather uneventful for you. And you were grateful for that. It was one of your rare days off, and you’d taken the opportunity to soak in a bath, watch your favourite movie, and make yourself a good meal.

The same couldn’t be said for Yuta however. He’d been sent out on a last minute mission and was only just now done. 

Usually, he’d be satisfied with just going home, showering the exhaustion off his body, and facetiming you until you both fell asleep. 

But today he really needed to see you, and hold you. 

You’d welcomed him with open arms of course. He wasn’t the only one missing his partner. Besides, you’d be lying if you said his tired tone when he called you earlier to ask if he could come over didn’t give you the urge to pamper him and take care of him.

You let him use your shower to freshen up. In the meantime, you rummaged through the drawer of his clothes that you kept at your place for something he could wear.

And now you found yourself sitting with your legs folded on your couch, with your boyfriend lying down, his head in your lap. 

Your fingers had been carefully threading through his damp and dark locks for the past twenty minutes while you watched the tv. 

Yuta, however, couldn’t care less about the show you were watching. He was turned away from it, in fact, and was instead looking up at you. Although he could barely keep his eyes open anymore. 

Feeling himself drift into slumber, he shifted in your lap to make himself more comfortable, and turned so that he faced your stomach. One of his arms came up to wrap around your waist as he nuzzled himself closer. 

You felt the color drain out of your face, and your heart drop. 

“Yuta… what’re you doing?” you whisper, not wanting to disturb him.

A soft hum escapes him. “... missed you.” he mumbles against your shirt, and presses his nose to your stomach. 

The second he touches you, you flinch away from him, sucking your stomach in.

That seems to stir him awake, and he opens his eyes to look at you. 

“What’s wrong?” he sits up, and lets go of you.

Your hands fall from his hair and into your lap instead. You stare down at them in silence, not giving him an answer.

“Did I… did I do something wrong?” his face morphs into a frown. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Your gaze snaps up to meet his, and you notice how glassy they look. “You didn’t—I’m just… not used to stuff like that.” 

“Having your stomach touched…?” he questions further.

“That and other things…” you nod once, curtly, simply. Like you wanted the topic to die down.

But he doesn’t want it to. He knows this must be daunting for you, but he doesn’t want to bottle this up. 

“Is there something wrong with your stomach?” he asks, his tone softer and quieter now.

You stare at him, slightly baffled. “Well… yeah.” you reply, as if the answer was obvious. 

He tilts his head to the side, still not getting it.

“It’s pudgy.”

You expect to see enlightenment flash through his features, but it doesn’t happen. Instead, he still looks confused. 

“So…?”

“So it’s bad, Yuta.”

He feels your patience wearing thin. “I-I’m sorry! I just don’t see what’s bad about that...” he scratches at the back of his neck and looks away.

You mimic him, and your eyes return to the tv as you let out a huff, folding your legs closer to your chest, your arms resting atop your knees and your face half-buried in them.

Once he notices your eyes aren’t on his anymore, his gaze trails back to you and he looks you up and down. Carefully reaching out for the remote, he pauses your show. 

“Y/N, I…” he starts. 

You stay quiet, your stare vacant. 

“Please look at me.” he leans in closer.

You feel your eyes start to water, but manage to reign it in, and look at him.

“I’m sorry.” he whispers sincerely. “But I still don’t think there’s anything wrong with the way you look. I never have.”

“How can you say that when I…” you start but feel your voice falter, and a knot forms in your throat. The tears well up again, and this time a couple of them stroll down your cheeks.

He stands up from the couch to instead kneel on the carpet in front of you. A hand rests on your knee while the other cradles your cheek carefully. Once you lean into his hand, his thumb swipes at your tears, tracing patterns on your skin slowly.

“You’re beautiful. So, so beautiful, I don’t even know why you—” he pauses, feeling himself get off track. “Listen, I love you. But I don’t like that you doubt yourself so much.”

Your lips part almost immediately to reply. To apologize profusely about your insecurities. But, as if guessing your next move, he cuts you off with a tender kiss.

He pulls away, but remains close enough so that you can hear him as he whispers. “I know you can’t help it, and that’s okay. That just means I have to be a better boyfriend to you." his eyes dart back and forth between your own.

You return his eye contact, and it doesn’t take you long before you break down. 

He immediately pulls you into his shoulder and lets you soak his shirt. His fingers thread through your hair soothingly as he whispers soft words of reassurance into your ear.

“I’ll do better from now on. For you. I promise.” He kisses your tear-stained eye corner. “I’ll help you see what I see when I look at you,”

You nuzzle into him further, your arms wrapping around his neck. He lets out a surprised huff from your tight squeeze, but quickly melts into it.

“I love you, and… thank you.” you mumble against the skin of his neck.

He continues rubbing your back soothingly. “... I love you too.”

ᯓ★ Choso Kamo

Choso was a very patient man. Especially when it came to the things he loved and held dearly to his heart.

You, of course, are no exception. 

Despite his age, he was equally as new as you when it came to relationships. Neither of you wanted to mess this up, so you had mutually agreed on taking it slow. 

You knew that about your boyfriend. 

What you weren’t aware of was how much he’d been holding back ever since you officialized your relationship. 

He loved praising you, showering you in words of affection and gifts, small romantic gestures he knew meant the world to you. But sometimes, even those things weren’t enough to convey the depth of his adoration for you. 

He would never tell you, but sometimes just the sight of you was enough to make him fall to his knees.

He’s been trying so hard these past weeks to hold it in, to be good for you. But tonight, he didn’t have the strength to do so anymore.

You’d invited him over at your place, insisting you wanted to try out the new face masks you bought with him. He’d said yes in a heartbeat.

And now, a couple hours later, you were cuddled up on the couch, watching tv. Nothing unusual for the two of you, right?

Not exactly. 

You had been iffy about physical intimacy of any kind with him. It’s not that you didn’t like him, you were just scared he wouldn’t like your body. 

Choso knew about your apprehensiveness, but didn’t know about the reason behind it. He never asked, not wanting you to feel like you had to justify yourself to him.

Maybe that’s why he was underestimating your hesitance tonight. He had underestimated it enough to let his temptations get the best of him, and slowly push past your boundaries. 

You were seated between his spread thighs, your back pressed to his chest, while his arms remained tightly wound around your frame in a bear hug.

You weren’t even sure of how you ended up in such a position. But now you had to try and ignore your rapidly beating heart as he kept his lips sealed onto a specific spot under your ear. 

He wasn’t moving, or kissing, or sucking on the sensitive bit of skin. He was simply nuzzled there, comfortably. And that somehow made it worse.

His hands move to tighten their hold on your waist,

“Cho?” you whisper.

“Yes?” he answers, but continues his caresses.

Your breath hitches. “Can you—” you start, but falter the second his hand squeezes your soft belly. “Stop!” you shout in a panic.

He immediately lets go of you and lifts his head from your neck.

Your eyes are wide open in shock. Both from his sudden touch, and from you unexpectedly raising your voice. 

“I… I’m sorry I didn’t mean to…” you start speaking but go speechless.

He remains quiet behind you for a while. “... Have I done something to upset you?”

You turn sideways with the intention of facing him properly, but your gaze is still downcast. “Not really, it’s just…”

His hands clench into fists at his sides, holding back from holding you. As clingy and affectionate as he was, he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.

“I don’t want you to feel my rolls.” you finally explain with a sigh.

His hands relax, and his eyebrows furrow. “... Your what?”

Now it’s your turn to look confused. “My… rolls?”

He does a little head shake, as if still not understanding. 

“The extra layers of fat on my stomach and back.” you elaborate even further. 

His expression is solemn, if not, slightly angry. “What about them?”

“Choso…. I don’t like them, and I don’t want you to see that side of me.”

His eyes shoot wide open, and his lips part. “Why don’t you like them? I like them. A lot.”

“Because they’re fat… and ugly.”

A pang of anger flashes across his gaze, although it’s not exactly directed at you. “Stop it.” His tone of voice rises. “How dare you say that? They’re beautiful, just like you are.”

Beautiful? He couldn’t seriously mean that.

His hand flies to his chest and he grips the fabric of his shirt right above his heart. “Do you… do you not believe me?” His bottom lip starts to quiver. “I… have failed you as your lover.”

You’re stunned, and your hands hover in the air on either side of him, unsure of what to do. “What? No, that’s not true.”

Tears start welling in his eyes. “It is. I’ve failed to make you feel worthy and loved.”

You cup his face as you speak to him. “Choso, I’ve been like this way before you… you’re not the issue.” your thumbs swipe his tears away.

His hands rest atop yours on the sides of his face. “How long… have you thought of yourself like this?”

“I’m… not sure. For as long as I can remember, I guess.” you look away.

His hands carefully slide around your waist and he sits you down on his lap. “Well… it needs to stop. I refuse to let you think of, or speak of yourself in this way.” he sniffles, although now he sounds more sure of himself. 

You look back at him, only to be met with a look of determination. 

“I love you, and I want you to love yourself as well.” he mutters before burying his head in the crook of your neck. “So please… promise me you’ll see yourself the way I do.”

“It doesn’t work like that.” A light chuckle escapes you. “But I can promise that I’ll try.”

He pulls away to look at you. “That’s good enough for me. Just… please don’t use words like that again. They pain me.” he nudges the underside of your jaw with his nose. “You’re beautiful.”

You pull him closer to you, wrapping your arms around his neck. Leaning in, you whisper against his hair. “Okay… I won’t.”

A satisfied hum escapes him. “Thank you,” he mumbles before pressing a kiss right under your ear. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you answer, right before he pulls you down on the couch with him.

ᯓ★ Toji Fushiguro

You were trying really hard not to overthink this. After all, you knew nothing crazy would happen. You’d told your boyfriend very clearly a while ago that you wanted to take things slow. And he’d agreed with no hesitation, of course.

So why were you so nervous about him spending the night over at your place for the first time?

He’d finished his work today (you weren’t sure exactly what his job was, but you didn’t want to force him for an answer), and had asked you if you wanted to fall asleep on the phone with him.

On a whim, you suggested him sleeping at your side instead. He hesitated, and asked you if you were sure, but upon hearing your insistence, he accepted.

Once he arrived, you’d eaten dinner together, watched trashy reality tv, and had offered him a change of clothes. 

Now, you were both in your bathroom. He was brushing his teeth, while you were combing your hair.

Earlier, you weren’t so nervous. But now that you were getting ready for bed, it was starting to settle in.

Standing side by side in the cramped bathroom, with your shoulders touching, you occasionally glanced at him. But every time you did, he would already be staring at you with his signature lopsided smirk. 

Looking away, your gaze returns to your hair in the mirror. 

He spits out the toothpaste, rinses his mouth out and cleans the toothbrush before putting it away. You watch out of the corner of your eye as he uses the towel to wipe his face. 

Once he’s done, he turns back to you, and stares at your reflection.

You try to ignore the weight of his gaze on you, and manage to keep your eyes glued to your hands as you continue brushing. “What?” you ask.

“Nothin’” His smile softens. “You look pretty.” he adds before snaking his arms around your waist, his chin resting on top of your head.

“Toji, I’m trying to brush my hair here.” you groan in annoyance, despite the blush forming on your cheeks.

“What’s the point? It’ll just get messy again when you sleep.” he chuckles dryly.

You roll your eyes.

His head dips down to press a kiss to your cheek. “I’m tired.”

Your heart stutters as you feel his fingers trail further down, and reach the hem of your sleep shirt. “... go to bed then.”

He hums, nuzzling himself against your neck and pressing another kiss. “Not without you.” His hands slip under your shirt, his palms laying flat against the soft and plush skin of your stomach.

“Toji!” You gasp, panic and jerk out of his grasp almost immediately while turning to face him. 

His hands slip out of your shirt just as fast as they got in, and he looks down at you with wider eyes than usual.

Your eyebrows are knit together in a frown, and your shoulders are tense. 

Guilt flashes across his eyes as he takes in your defensive stance. He takes a step back, letting his hands fall back at his sides. 

“... m’sorry. I didn’t realize.” he mutters out, his tone quiet. 

“Don’t apologize—” Your expression softens when you see him retreat. “I just… wasn’t expecting that.”

“Yeah, because you told me you didn’t want me to do stuff like that.” he states blatantly, holding himself accountable. “And I forgot, like a fucking idiot.”

You place the hairbrush back on the counter near your sink. You look away, not sure what to say now.

His jaw clenches tightly, before he speaks. “... Do you want me to leave?”

You rush to answer him. “No! God, no... I just— give me a minute.”

He nods once, a hand slipping into the pocket of his dark sweatpants, while the other rests on his nape. 

You stare down at the floor, hesitant. Eventually, you decide it’s best to be honest with him. 

“I panicked because I don’t want you to feel how…” you start, but trail off, struggling to find words that won’t make you sound like you’re begging for his pity or compliments. 

“... how what?” he asks, although he’s soft, not rushing you.

You take a deep breath. “How big I am.”

He quirks an eyebrow. 

“I mean, it’s not like you can’t see how big I am, I’m aware of that—” you fidget with your hands. “But… what if you find it worse once you actually feel it?”

Noticing the fact your gaze is remaining downcast, and that you don’t intend on looking up at him anytime soon, he places one of his hands on top of your own. You stop your fidgeting, and finally meet his gaze.

“That’s why you don’t want me to touch you?”

You seal your lips in a tight line before nodding.

He sighs. “You should’ve said so sooner. We could’ve resolved this a while ago.”

You tilt your head to the side with a quizzical look. 

“I don’t mind that you’re bigger.” he states. “I like it.”

Your eyebrows raise, your eyes widen, and your lips part. You’re speechless. 

He chuckles as he takes in your expression. “But that’s not the only reason I’m with you.”

Your hands move to wrap around his. 

“... I love you. And the way you look doesn’t change that for me. Never will.”

Your lips tremble, and he immediately catches sight of it. Pulling you in, he presses you into his warm chest.

“I’m sorry for crying… and thank you.” you sniffle. 

He shakes his head, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

He waits a little while before pulling you away enough to see you properly.

“Do you really like that I’m… bigger?” you ask, skeptically.

He nods with a grin. “I thought you knew.”

You shake your head innocently.

“And here I thought I was being too obvious about it.”

Suddenly, it clicks. “Wait, is that—is that why you’re always staring?”

He doesn’t say anything, but by the way his grin only grows wider, you can guess the answer is a yes.

“I thought you thought I looked weird.”

“What? Fuck no.” he exhales heavily, before moving to pick you up, your legs wrapping around his middle. “Need you to lie down on me.” he speaks in a hushed tone as he walks over to your bed. 

He can hear your heartbeat pick up in pace, and sits down on the edge of the bed. 

“We won’t do anything you don’t want. I just…” he brushes your hair out of your face. “I wanna feel your weight on me. Feels nice.”

Your eyes dart back and forth between his own. “... okay.” you whisper.

He moves to slip you both under the covers, making sure at least half of your body is resting atop his. 

“I love you too, by the way.” you add, resting your cheek against his chest as you look up at him.

You feel his scarred lip brush your temple in a soft kiss. “... go to sleep.”

ᯓ★ Ryomen Sukuna

Half a year had passed since you became betrothed to the king of curses. Although you knew about the arrangement years prior, it had only been officialized six months ago. 

You were scared the night of your wedding. You shouldn’t have been, considering you knew what to expect. But you were still scared.

To your surprise however, he had asked you if you were willing. And upon hearing your refusal, he’d retreated to his own chambers in silence. 

Ever since then, he’d honored your choice. 

But in these last six months, things changed. Six months of longing glances, of not so accidental touches and brushes of hands and shoulders, of words left unsaid. 

It was safe to say he had grown on you. You’d learned that although he was still the monster on the battlefield everyone claimed him to be, he had a different side reserved just for you. 

As for Sukuna? The wait was killing him.

You had somehow managed to nuzzle yourself into the depths of his cold heart, and have stayed there ever since. He tried to stop it at first, but he quickly learned that it was no use in denying it anymore. 

He loved you, because you’d taught him how to love. 

But out of fear of scaring you off, and also because he found himself wanting to respect your wishes, he kept distance between the two of you. 

So although you had spent multiple evenings walking side by side in the gardens with your arms linked, or hours in his library reading together in silence with your pinky fingers touching, neither of you had made a move. 

The closest the two of you had ever gotten was sleeping cuddled up together. 

The first time, he’d insisted on sleeping at your side when you’d fallen sick in the winter. He had berated you for being a weak human the entire time, whilst simultaneously holding you close enough so you could stay warm.

The second time, he had drunk one too many bottles of sake, and refused to let you go the entire night. You could only laugh to yourself as he kept you trapped in a bear hug, imagining how embarrassed he’d be the next morning.

The third time was tonight.

He’d grown restless from waiting. He wanted to be able to hold you without worrying about whether or not you would wake up the next morning or perish from a measly cold. He wanted to be able to feel the plumpness and curves of your body and remember the feeling, instead of clinging onto snippets of his foggy memory.

Hence why he’d called you to his chambers so late. 

Six months ago, you would’ve been afraid to step anywhere near his quarters. But now? Now you trusted him.

So upon hearing his request, you assumed he’d want to do some late night reading again, or maybe listen to you play the koto like he sometimes liked to do. 

But your heart jumped in your throat once you’d learned of his real reason for requesting your audience. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. This wouldn’t be the first time the two of you fell asleep together.

So, despite your heart hammering against your ribcage, you made your way over to his bed, carefully lifted the covers and slipped underneath them. 

He didn’t take long before slipping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer to him. 

Your noses nearly touching, you ducked your head, too flushed to face him. He didn’t force you to look back at him, instead focusing on mapping out the fullness of your waist with his large palm.

You focused on his touch as a way of distracting yourself from how close his face was to yours, but noticing how deliberate the caresses of his hand was, it only flustered you further. 

“Sukuna…” you breathed out. 

“... Hm?” he hummed absentmindedly, too focused on feeling you. 

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” he whispered, before his hand moved further down, feeling the curve of your tummy. 

Instantly, your hand flew to his, pulling it away from your body. He let himself be pushed away willingly, and finally stared at your face. 

It was redder than he’d ever seen. And he could tell you were simultaneously flustered, and scared. Mostly scared. He almost hated himself for how attractive that was to him.

Upon noticing your hesitancy and silence, he takes the initiative.

“Speak.”

“... Don’t touch me there.” you answer, your voice barely above a whisper. 

His hand fully retreats now and he even scoots away from you a bit.

“Why?”

Your gaze snaps up to his, and you look at him incredulously. “Simply because I don’t want you to.”

You expect him to taunt you, to smirk at you. But he does none of that. 

He looks solemn as he talks. “That’s not true. Tell me the real reason.”

You seal your lips and stare at his neck instead of his eyes, out of fear that you’ll fold if you stare into them for too long.

He tenses, and his gaze lands on your stomach. “Are you injured?”

You shake your head and sigh deeply.

A beat of silence passes. “... Is it me? Do I repulse you?”

“What?! No!” you tilt your head back up despite yourself. “That’s not it.”

“Then what is it if not that?” he urges, his tone of voice rising.

“It’s the opposite!” you retort. He looks stunned by your shouting, but you continue regardless. “I don’t… I don’t want you to be repulsed by me.”

He looks at you in total shock. How could you, the embodiment of everything beautiful in the world repulse him, a monster driven by bloodlust?

“What the hell do you mean?” his eyebrows knight tightly together. 

“You know what I’m talking about, don’t play dumb.” you roll your eyes, as if the motion could stop the tears from forming.

He only looks more baffled at your words.

“My weight, Sukuna. That’s the problem.”

“Your weight.” he repeats in disbelief, his eyebrows falling back in place.

“Yes, my weight. I’m all… pudgy and gross.” your tone grows quiet in your embarrassment. 

His eyes narrow into a glare and he immediately spits out, “Watch your words when you speak of my wife.”

You scoff, before one of your hands rests atop your stomach.

“No one is allowed to speak ill of you. That includes you.”

“But it’s the truth. You can’t act like it’s not.” Your other hand moves to hide your stomach as well.

He lets out a dissatisfied groan, takes your hands away from your midriff, and instead lands your palms flat against his chest. “It most certainly is not.”

You hesitate at first but eventually lean into him. 

His tone of voice softens at your gesture. “Who has put these foolish ideas in your head?”

You sigh once more.

“Tell me so I may have them executed.”

“No one, Sukuna. I grew up like this.”

He softens even more at the sound of his name slipping past your lips. “... Well get rid of them.”

You finally look up at him. “It’s not that easy.”

He meets your gaze instantly. “What is it going to take then?”

You shrug and shake your head once.

“Allow me to say this then,” he starts, and one of his hands moves to cup your jaw. “These thoughts and insecurities are beneath you. There is only one thing in this world that I am certain possesses true beauty in every sense of the word.” he tugs you closer to him. “And that is you.”

You feel the urge to deny his words, to pull away and call yourself berating things, but you hold back. Instead, tears well in your eyes and trickle down your cheeks. 

He scoffs at the sight of your tears, but swipes away at them with the pad of his thumb regardless. “Cease these pointless waterworks. They’re unbecoming of you.”

“Sorry,” you mutter before nuzzling into his chest in an attempt to stop the crying.

He freezes at your sudden proximity, but quickly wraps his arms around you. Clicking his tongue in annoyance, he adds “I don’t need your apologies. Just stop.”

You nod against him.

His hand awkwardly and tentatively moves, caressing your back in what he hopes is a soothing manner. 

“The next time you feel like this, come to me. I’ll make sure to extinguish these idiocies from your mind.”

“Okay… thank you.” You sniffle the last of your tears away, before leaning up and pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek.

He stays frozen in place for a moment, his eyes wide open. Eventually, he grunts out a small noise, acting as though he was annoyed. 

He pulls the covers over you both properly. “Sleep.” he orders one last time before you drift off into slumber.

masterlist

a/n: this took soooo long to write because its such a sensitive topic and i didnt wanna mess it up

The surprising part for Gojo was how comfortable he became around you. He was someone who carried a lot of loneliness despite constantly being surrounded by people, and he wasn’t used to having someone who didn’t need anything from him. You weren’t interested in the strongest sorcerer. You were interested in Satoru. That difference mattered more than he would ever admit out loud. He would probably still act annoying, still flirt shamelessly, and still pretend he wasn’t affected, but the moment he realized he was looking forward to seeing you again, he knew you had become someone important.

𝗠𝗘𝗚𝗨𝗠𝗜 𝗙𝗨𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗚𝗨𝗥𝗢

Megumi did not expect anything special when he first met you. In his experience, most unexpected situations were usually connected to curses, missions, or some kind of problem that needed solving. He wasn’t someone who believed in dramatic first meetings or instant connections. Life was already complicated enough without adding unnecessary emotions into the mix.

At first, Megumi would probably come across as distant. Not because he disliked you, but because that was simply how he was with most people. He wasn’t naturally expressive, and he wasn’t the type to immediately open up. If you tried making conversation, his answers might be short. If you complimented him, he might awkwardly look away and pretend he didn’t hear it. He wasn’t trying to be rude; he just genuinely didn’t know how to respond to someone showing interest in him.

What would make you stand out to him was patience. You wouldn’t force him to talk or constantly demand his attention. You would simply exist beside him comfortably. Maybe you would sit together in silence, share a conversation when it naturally happened, or remember something small he mentioned days ago. Those little things would affect him more than grand gestures ever could.

Megumi was someone who noticed kindness because he understood how rare it could be. He was used to putting others before himself, protecting people, and carrying responsibilities that weren’t always his to carry. Meeting someone who cared about him without expecting anything in return would confuse him at first. He wouldn’t know what to do with that kind of affection.

Over time, he would become softer around you. Not dramatically, not overnight, but in small ways. He would start texting first sometimes. He would remember your preferences. He would quietly stand closer to you in crowded places. He might never be the type to constantly say romantic things, but his actions would always show how much he cared. For Megumi, letting someone into his life would be a bigger confession than any words could be.

𝗬𝗨𝗝𝗜 𝗜𝗧𝗔𝗗𝗢𝗥𝗜:

Yuji would probably make the first meeting feel comfortable almost immediately. He was naturally warm and approachable, the type of person who could make a stranger feel like they had known him for years. When he met you, he wouldn’t try to impress you or act differently. He would just be himself — enthusiastic, friendly, and maybe slightly awkward if he realized he was interested in you.

He would remember small details from your first conversation. If you mentioned your favorite food, he would remember it. If you told him about a hobby, he would ask about it later because he genuinely wanted to know more. Yuji’s kindness came naturally; he wasn’t doing those things because he wanted praise. He just cared about people.

The thing that would surprise you about him would be how emotionally aware he could be. Despite his cheerful personality, Yuji had experienced things that forced him to mature quickly. He understood loneliness, fear, and loss. Because of that, he valued genuine connections deeply. If he realized you were someone who made him feel safe and accepted, he would treasure that.

His crush would probably be obvious to everyone except him. His friends would notice him smiling more around you, talking about you constantly, and finding excuses to spend time together. Yuji would deny it at first because he would genuinely wonder if he was just happy to have a new friend.

When he finally accepted his feelings, he would be incredibly sincere. He wouldn’t play games or try to act cool. He would tell you exactly how he felt, probably with a nervous smile and complete honesty. Being with Yuji would feel like being with someone who constantly reminds you that you matter.

𝗞𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗢 𝗡𝗔𝗡𝗔𝗠𝗜

Nanami was not someone who expected romance to enter his life. He had already accepted that his world was filled with responsibility, stress, and obligations. He valued stability, routine, and professionalism. The idea of meeting someone who could disrupt that carefully controlled balance was something he would normally avoid.

The first time he met you, he would likely be polite but reserved. Nanami was always respectful, but he kept emotional distance from most people. He had learned that caring deeply about others often came with pain, and after everything he had experienced, he wasn’t someone who easily allowed himself to become attached.

However, what would draw him to you would be your sincerity. Nanami appreciated people who were genuine. He disliked unnecessary drama and dishonesty, so someone who simply treated him kindly without trying to impress him would stand out.

He would notice your habits, your patience, and the way you interacted with others. Nanami was observant, and he paid attention to details most people missed. He would notice if you were tired, if something bothered you, or if you were pretending to be okay.

His affection would be subtle. He wouldn’t shower you with exaggerated displays of emotion, but he would make sure you were cared for. He would bring you something you needed before you asked. He would walk you home. He would remember important dates. He would quietly make your life easier because that was how Nanami expressed love.

Meeting you would remind him that life wasn’t only about enduring hardships. There could still be moments of peace. There could still be someone worth coming home to.

𝗧𝗢𝗝𝗜 𝗙𝗨𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗚𝗨𝗥𝗢

Toji was not someone who expected people to stay. His life had taught him that attachment was a weakness and that relying on others usually ended badly. He was someone who lived through instinct, survival, and personal gain. So meeting someone who genuinely caught his attention would be unusual.

At first, he would probably assume you were just another person who would eventually lose interest. He wouldn’t go out of his way to impress you, and he wouldn’t pretend to be someone he wasn’t. Toji had no interest in creating a fake version of himself.

What would surprise him would be if you saw through him. If you noticed that behind the confidence and arrogance was someone who had spent years being disconnected from others. He wouldn’t like feeling understood because it would make him vulnerable, but he would also find it strangely comforting.

He would tease you constantly, partly because he enjoyed seeing your reactions and partly because it was easier than admitting he liked your company. He wasn’t someone who expressed affection traditionally. His care would appear in practical ways — making sure you were safe, remembering things you mentioned, silently showing up when you needed someone.

The biggest change would be that he would start considering someone other than himself. For someone like Toji, that would be significant. He wouldn’t become a completely different person overnight, but having someone who saw value in him would slowly make him question the way he had always lived.

𝗖𝗛𝗢𝗦𝗢

Choso would probably be the most uncertain when meeting you. He was someone who understood loyalty and family deeply, but romantic relationships were unfamiliar territory. He was intense, serious, and sometimes unsure how to express what he felt.

At first, he might appear intimidating simply because he didn’t know how to act naturally around you. He would observe you quietly, trying to understand you. He wasn’t someone who casually approached people, so if he showed interest, it would mean he genuinely wanted to know you.

What would make him attached would be your kindness. Choso valued emotional bonds above almost everything else. If you treated him with patience and warmth, he would remember it. He would not forget someone who made him feel accepted.

His love would be incredibly loyal. Once he decided you were important to him, he would take that seriously. He would want to protect you, support you, and understand you. He might struggle with normal romantic gestures, but his devotion would be obvious.