જ⁀➴ Satoru Gojo .ᐟ

You and your boyfriend were lying on the ridiculously large and comfortable couch of his living room. You were sat up with your cheek in your hand, elbow propped on the armrest, while Satoru lay down. He was currently using your lap as his pillow— as he so often did. Your hand played with his hair, twirling the tips of it between your fingers. 

You had insisted on putting a romcom on, which he wasn’t too eager about, admittedly. But it wasn’t like he was complaining about it. He simply remained silent, too unbothered to hide his disinterest. 

And frankly? You hated it. You almost wish he’d whine your ear off about your bad taste in movies rather than just being indifferent. Because it made you feel as if he couldn’t care less whether you were here with him or not.

That’s when an idea popped into your head. The words spilled out of your mouth before you could think them over. 

“It’s getting late, I think I should go back now.” you nudge his head lightly in the same way you usually did when you needed to get up to grab some water or use the bathroom, signaling for him to get off your lap.

Refusing to lift off of you, he remains silent for a moment, before slowly turning his head to look up at you. “What?”

“I said it’s getting late.” you repeat, holding back from smiling as you were already starting to find this amusing. You point to the window. “I want to get back home before it’s completely dark out.”

“And why would you want to go back home…? I don’t understand.” he frowns.

You furrow your eyebrows as well, mimicking him for the sake of playing along. “Why would I stay?”

“Because I want you to? I thought you were spending the night like usual.” He sits up, the blanket previously draped over him pooling at his waist, and folds one knee up to rest his arm against it as he looks back at you.

Now that he’s finally off of you, you seize the opportunity and stand on your two feet. You glance around the room, as if looking to gather your things to leave. Man, you were really selling it. “No, not tonight.”

“Why?” He immediately stands up. Walking over to you, he blocks your path, all 6’3 feet of him towering over you. “... is it because I wasn’t paying attention to the movie?” his voice grows quieter. 

You scowl at him and fold your arms over your chest, even though you wanted to burst out laughing. You had a part to play after all. 

“I’m sorry, okay? It’s not my fault I don’t like corny movies like that.” He shrugs, putting his hands on his hips. His gaze drops to the carpet beneath your feet. “Besides, it’s kinda hard to pay attention when you’re touching my hair like that…” his voice trails off.

“Well that’s a heartfelt apology if I’ve ever heard one.” you roll your eyes back. 

He groans and rakes a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. I mean it.” the tall blue-eyed man sighs. “Don’t go, please?” he finally lifts his gaze off the ground to look at you. Satoru gives you his signature pleading look, accompanied with a playful wink. “I promise I’ll be super-duper focused this time.” he leans down so both of your faces meet.

You let out a sigh and look away, completely ignoring the fact his lips were just a breath away from yours. You pretend to give it some thought for a couple of seconds. 

“Alright, fine.”

His lips meet yours in a quick peck, and his arms encircle you as he lifts you up, throwing you over his shoulder. 

“Satoru! Unhand me—”

“Can’t, sorry. Don’t want you running away from me.” he shakes his head, patting the back of your thighs gently.

“I already said I wasn’t going anywhere!” you squirm in his grasp. 

“Better safe than sorry though, yeah?” he chuckles, making his way back to the plush sofa in the center of his living room.

“You can be so annoying sometimes, you know that?”

“Mhm, I love you too baby.”

જ⁀➴ Kento Nanami .ᐟ

You played with your necklace as you let your eyes sweep over Kento’s familiar apartment. The kitchen where you had made meals together, the corner where you forced him to dance to jazz music with you, and the front door where you’d shared as many kisses as goodbyes. 

Your boyfriend had excused himself for a moment and left you alone at the kitchen counter where you were previously chatting and enjoying a drink after coming back from your nice dinner date. 

Knowing the routine the both of you shared by now, he was probably going to come back with a spare set of clothes for you to change into and sleep in. 

And you curse yourself for the mischievous idea that squeezed itself into your brain. Perhaps you were feeling playful because of that dizzying kiss you shared earlier. Or maybe it was just the drinks. Either way, you were set on teasing him. 

So, you quickly stand up from the stool and grab your bag. Kento comes back before you can make your way to the coat hanger at the entrance, however. 

You hear the pause in his footsteps and turn around to face him. 

And just like you’d assumed, he had a fresh change of clothes in one hand, and the makeup removing wipes you kept at his place in the other. His gaze stays stoic, although you’re sure it doesn’t reflect what’s going through his mind. 

“You’re leaving?” He speaks in his usual steady tone.

You clear your throat and avoid his piercing gaze. “Yeah, it’s getting pretty late.”

He puts the clothes and makeup wipes down on the counter. “... I assumed you’d be staying the night.”

“Oh, no. Not this time.” you readjust the strap of your bag on your shoulder.

“And why is that?” he lifts one of his eyebrows

“I don’t know… I’m tired.” you blurt out. You should’ve thought this through more thoroughly, clearly. 

A confused expression makes its way onto his face. “You’re tired, so you want to go out of your way to go back home instead of just spending the night here?”

You shrug and let your eyes trail away from him. 

He takes a couple steps forward until he reaches you. “Did I do something wrong? Is that why you want to leave so urgently?” he searches for your gaze.

But you’re determined to keep playing along, and don’t even spare him a glance. 

At your silence, he sighs. “… At least let me drive you home. It’s not safe for you to be out this late. Especially alone.” he suggests, but he’s already walking past you.

He grabs his car keys and slips them in his pocket before reaching for his coat. 

You quickly turn on your heels and reach him, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind. “I’m not going anywhere Kento.”

He halts his movements and looks back at you over his shoulder. “... What?”

“I don’t actually want to leave.” you look up at him, your chin resting against his back. “Just wanted to see how you’d react.”

He lets out a heavy sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose. 

You let go of him so he can take his coat off. He hangs his keys back up and turns around. 

“Don’t do that again.” he runs a hand through his blonde hair, the motion making some strands fall against his forehead. “I thought I upset you, or made you uncomfortable in some way.”

“Sorry, you know I like to keep you on your toes.” you chuckle and reach a hand out to grab his. Despite his frustration, his hand finds yours almost instantly, as if it was second nature to him. His large and steady palm encircles your smaller hand, thumb tracing circles against the back of it. 

“There’s that, and those few glasses you had earlier which I definitely shouldn’t have indulged you in.” he grumbles and lets himself be pulled forward by you.

You giggle in response, unintentionally proving his point. “Not my fault you can’t say no to me.” your free hand finds his firm shoulder and you start swaying side to side while humming a soft tune the both of you liked. He lets out a huff and shakes his head before a small smile breaks out on his face. He follows your clumsy lead and moves in sync with you. Kento speaks up again, his voice softer now. “You’re right. It’s not your fault you’re so charming.”

જ⁀➴ Yuji Itadori .ᐟ

You scrolled on your phone mindlessly, letting out the occasional laugh at a funny video. You’d been doing so for the past hour and a half now, while Yuji flipped through his comic book, deeply enamored in the story. 

The both of you were lounging on his bed. Him sat up against the headboard, plush pillow supporting his back, while you were more slouched against him, head carefully caged in between his bicep and chest while he held up his book. 

That’s when you fell upon the video. The one where you saw a girl in a similar situation as the one you were in right now, pulling a prank on her boyfriend. The prank consisted of her pretending she was leaving, just to see her boyfriend’s reaction. Luckily for you, you were wearing your earphones, and Yuji was far too focused on his reading to sense the imminent mischief coming his way.

Unable to stop yourself, you turn your phone off and lift his elbow to free yourself from his grasp.

“‘Kay I’m gonna go now.” you scoot yourself off his bed and stretch your arms once you’re back on your feet. 

He closes his book and lets it fall on his stomach. “Huh?” 

You chuckle at his cluelessness. “I said I’m leaving, Yuji. I wanna go to sleep.” 

He sits up. “So sleep here.” the pink haired boy states simply, as if it was the obvious answer.

“... I wanna sleep in my room though.” you put a hand on your hip. 

“What’s wrong with my room?” he stands up and steps closer to you, completely invading your personal space. He had a tendency to do that.

“Nothing’s wrong with it, I just— why are you so offended?” you snort.

“I’m not offended… I just don’t understand why you don’t wanna sleep over. You always do.” he tilts his head, the gesture reminding you of a puppy.

Thank god for your resolve, because if you didn’t have any, you already would’ve caved in and kissed him stupid.

“Not always.” you roll your eyes.

“You slept over last night and the night before though…” he scratches at his head, confused.

“That’s besides the point!” you huff. “Okay you know what? I’m just gonna go.” 

He doesn’t even let you take more than two footsteps before his arms trap you in a tight embrace from behind. “You can’t just go without giving me a good reason to!”

“Yuji let go of me—” you move around, trying to slip free from his hold. Curse him and his superhuman strength. And although you try to sound angry, you can’t help the giggles erupting from deep within your stomach.

He ignores your demands. “Come on just tell me— did I do something wrong? Or do you just not like my room?” he laughs along with you, the sound booming in your ear. 

“It’s not that!” you continue giggling, as he was now relentlessly attacking your neck and cheek with sloppy kisses. “God, you’re so gross! Stop it—” You push a hand against his face.

He pouts and gives your hand a small lick. “Me? Gross?”

You yelp and wipe your hand against his thigh. “Yes, you!”

“That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think? I’m just trying to show my girlfriend I love her.”

Feeling him settle down, you do the same and try to catch your breath from all that laughing. 

His voice is quieter. “Seriously, why do you wanna go so bad?” he juts his bottom lip out. 

“I don’t… I just wanted to see if you’d care whether I left or not.”

“... You for real?” Once he sees you nod, he lets out a sigh, feeling reassured. 

At the sight of the overwhelming relief washing over him, you chuckle. “You’re acting like you avoided a catastrophe.”

“I really did.”

“Me not sleeping in the same room as you is a catastrophe?” you deadpan.

“Of course it is.” He gives you a small glare, as if it were a stupid question. “Wait— you don’t feel the same?”

You hold back from smiling too hard. He just kept giving you opportunities to tease him on a silver platter. “I mean… I’d live.” you shrug.

“Sometimes I think you might secretly hate me…” he sighs woefully. 

You grab his hand abruptly and drag him back to bed. “Would you quit being dramatic? I never said I hated you.” letting yourself fall against the mattress, you tug him along so he falls on top of you. He catches himself at the last second to hover above you, supporting himself with his forearms. 

“But you act like it—”

You cut his sentence short by pressing a kiss to his adam’s apple. It bobs against you as he swallows hard, his face and neck flushing red.

He lets out a shaky breath. “... You’re going to kill me one of these days.”

જ⁀➴ Megumi Fushiguro .ᐟ

The sound of rain hitting the window could be heard through Megumi’s room. It was late in the evening, and the two of you were resting in his bed. 

His front was pressed against your back, and his chin rested against the top of your head. He had an arm draped over you. You weren’t doing anything in particular, simply lying down entangled with one another. Enjoying the other’s warmth. But you could tell he hadn’t dozed off yet.

Although he was probably about to. Today’s mission had been more rough than usual. And you could tell he was going to wake up sore all over tomorrow. 

So, you concluded he needed some good rest.

“Megumi?” you speak up softly, not wanting to startle him. 

His hand tightens around your waist. “Hm?”

“I’m gonna go back to my room now, okay?”

He lets his head dip down to be closer to you. “Why?” he murmurs against your ear.

You purse your lips together. Of course he was going to be difficult about this. “You need to be well-rested tomorrow.”

“... Still waiting for you to explain why you’re leaving,”

You sigh. His ability to remain a sarcastic jackass even while tired was truly impressive. 

“You’re going to end up even more sore if you sleep with me like this. You know I move around a lot in my sleep.”

He goes quiet for a moment, as if thinking your words over. A heavy sigh escapes him. “I’ll be fine.”

Your hand moves to rest on top of his. You let it sit there for a moment before you try to detach his hand from your side. “No, you won’t. And I don’t want to be the reason you feel even worse tomorrow.”

His grip on you only tightens once he notices you’re trying to get rid of him. “Would you stop overthinking this? I told you I’ll be fine.”

“You say that now, but you’re going to complain and blame me later when you’re hurting all over.” you click your tongue and huff.

Megumi ignores your disdain, and pulls you back to him, pressing his chest against your spine even tighter than before. He nuzzles his face even closer, and you can feel his bangs against your ear, and his lips against your neck. His soft breath fans across your collarbone as he speaks. 

“... I won’t, I promise.” he mumbles, his voice almost getting lost with the sound of the harsh rain tapping against the glass of the window.

“And how do I know you mean it?”

“I always keep my word, don’t I? Stop worrying over this.”

Your hand that was previously trying to get him to let go of you gives up, and instead runs down your face as you groan lightly. “Megumi, this is for your own good. I want you to feel better tomorrow.”

“And you don’t want me to feel better now?”

Your hand falls from your face to land on the pillow under you. “What are you talking about?”

“What about right now? Don’t you want me to feel good now?”

You stare down at his hand that was around your waist, stunned. “Well… yeah. Of course I do.”

“Then let me have this.” he huffs, burying his face against the collar of your shirt. He speaks up again, his voice softer this time. “Stay with me.”

“... You’re way too stubborn. I hope you know that.”

He hums, paying you no mind.

“Fine, I’ll stay. But if you say one word about it being my fault that you—”

“I get it. Stop nagging me.” he groans. But the second he feels your tense form relax against him once more, he whispers. “Thanks.”

“For what?” 

“... you really gonna make me say it out loud?”

You chuckle softly. “Yes.”

He clears his throat, and lowers his face. His eyes flutter shut, and you feel his eyelashes brush up against your shoulder. A soft kiss is pressed against your skin. “Thanks for being here,”

“I always will.” you respond.

જ⁀➴ Toji Fushiguro .ᐟ

You twirl the ends of your hair mindlessly as you watch him. Toji was hunched over in the midst of his small kitchen, rummaging through his fridge. The buzzing light of it highlighting his sharpest features, currently pulled into a small frown as he groaned about forgetting to buy a pack of beer.

He’d been in a pretty foul mood for the last hour or so. You’re not exactly sure why. He’d gotten off the phone with Shiu all bitter and angry. 

You were hoping the two of you could share a nice evening— or night, but it seemed that plan had gone to ruin now. And you weren’t sure exactly what to do. 

So there you were, sitting on the bed of his small one bedroom studio, keeping quiet out of fear of angering or stressing him out further. 

After contemplating, you sigh and stand up. “Hey, Toji?” 

“Mmh?” he grumbles in response. 

“I’m leaving, okay?”

He closes the fridge and watches you as you make your way to the front door, grabbing your stuff along the way. His eyes widen in disbelief. He reaches you in two steps.

“Where you going?”

“... Home.” you look up at him, fingers tightly gripping your bag. You had hoped no argument would come out of this. He wasn’t one to fight or anything, but still.

“Why?”

“I don’t know I just…” you trail off. He stays silent, giving you the chance to think. You take a deep breath and speak up again. “Just thought I’d give you some space. Now’s not a good time for you, clearly.”

“Who said that?” his eyebrows knit in confusion, his frown only worsening.

“No one— it’s obvious.” you fold your arms over your chest. “I mean… you’ve been groaning and grumbling to yourself since earlier.”

He lets out a heavy sigh. “So?” he throws his head to the side, gaze landing on his window.

“So… I’m leaving you be.” you say, your tone leaving no room for discussion as you turn your back to him, reaching for the doorknob and twisting it.

His hand immediately lands on the door and he pushes against it, slamming it shut. You look to your left, his large and rough palm laying flat against the wood right next to your head. “Don’t want you to.” he states, his other hand moving against the door on your right side this time, caging you in.

You sigh. “Why not?”

He stays still for a moment, before leaning forward, his forehead landing on your shoulder with a soft thud. “Need you here with me.” he mumbles.

You’re slightly taken-aback by his words, but out of fear he might deflect or retreat back in his shell, you say nothing. You simply reach a hand up, your fingers carding through his thin black hair.

“You sure? I don’t want to make you more upset than you already are.”

He clicks his tongue in response. “You don’t upset me doll,”

Unsure of what to do, you remain motionless and quiet, for the sole exception of your hand massaging his scalp.

“Don’t go. Stay here.” he mutters against your shoulder. His arms detach from the door to wrap themselves around your waist. That was probably the closest you would ever get to hearing him plead. 

“... Alright, I’m staying.” your free hand moves to caress and trace along the veins of his arms. 

A soft groan slips past his lips at the sensation of your hand in his hair, and he tightens his arms around you.

“Whatever Shiu said must’ve really upset you, huh…”

His hand slips under your shirt and traces the soft lines of your stomach. “Say his name one more fucking time,” 

You hold back a laugh and scoff instead. “Okay, okay, calm down.”

His hand loosens around your waist, and he pulls away from you. You finally turn back around to meet his gaze. Your eyes soften at the sight of him. Hair just a tad greasy and disheveled, eyebags more prominent than before, shoulders not as upright and confident as usual. 

“Don’t look at me like that.” he grunts and looks away.

“Like what?” you inch closer, hands finding his waist.

“Like you pity me.”

You shake your head with a smile. “I worry about you. It’s not the same thing.”

“Yeah well I don’t need you worrying over me like I’m some kid that needs help.”

“Sure, sure.” You nod. “How about you hop in the shower and I wash your hair?”

His eyes trail back to you instantly, and he looks down at you with a conflicted expression. He considers it for a moment. “Fine, but you’re getting in with me.” he grins.

You run a hand down your face but reluctantly agree. “I’m just going to wash your hair, Toji. That’s it.”

“You always say that and then end up—”

“In the shower you go!” you raise your voice to drown out the sound of his, and start pushing him towards the bathroom.

જ⁀➴ Ryomen Sukuna .ᐟ

Warm water flowing from your fingertips and trickling down his back, gentle candlelight bouncing off of the hard planes of his body, and the quiet breeze of the night air slipping past the lavish curtains and into the room. 

It was currently late into the night, and Sukuna had summoned you to his chambers to bathe him. Just like he did every other night. He’d complained to you about his needlessly tiring and grueling day. 

Dealing with—what he deemed to be—incompetent servants, his food being too cold for his taste, and the arrogant members of his court ordering him around (they were merely giving him suggestions on political matters).

You’d just finished giving him his bath, and were currently standing with his short-sleeved robe held out for him to slip into. You watched carefully as he finished drying himself off and turned his back to you, black tattoos and hardened muscles on display. They flex and contort as he slips his four arms through the large loop holes and shrugs the light robe on. 

He turned around to let you tie the garment and your hands moved fast, tying a small knot around his waist, your eyes trained on the fabric in-between your fingers. Once finished, you took two steps back and bowed your head, hands clasped together at your front. 

“If you do not need me for anything else, I will be taking my leave, my lord.”

“You’re not going anywhere.” He huffed, running a hand through his wet hair.

You let out an involuntary twitch. “... Is there something else you’d like me to do for you?”

“No.” he responds simply.

You raise your gaze for the first time, and look at him. “May I ask why you’re keeping me then?”

“You may not.” The tall man retorts and turns around, making his way to his bed. And you know, without him having to tell you, that he expects you to follow after him. So you do.

You stand with your hands still joined together, posture upright, your eyes glued to the floor, with your back against the wall. 

He throws a glance at you and a sneer graces his lips. “Must you stand in the corner like a potted plant?”

You clench your hands, holding back from shooting a snarky response his way, and manage to stay quiet. 

“Join me,”

Now that breaks your resolve. 

You look at him across the room. “Sorry?”

He makes himself comfortable against his pillows, and folds one knee up, elbow propped up against it and his chin resting in his palm. “Have you gone deaf? Do not make me repeat myself.” he glares.

You swallow, hard, and make your way to him slowly. 

“Before the sun rises again, would you?” he orders, and you pick up your pace. 

You stand at the foot of his bed, quiet. 

Once you’re finally close enough for him to scrutinize your every expression and feature, a smirk forms on his face, and he pats the space next to him.

Heat flares up in your stomach and you feel fear, anger and confusion (and maybe a bit of arousal), all at once.

“My lord… I am afraid I can not provide you with what you desire. Allow me to remind you I am but a humble servant.” You speak firmly. Well… as firm as you could manage considering you were probably going to lose your head in the next five minutes. But you’d rather be beheaded than get in bed with him against your will. “I could ask for a concubine to be called if that is what you wish.” you bow again, hoping to appease him.

His hand drops from his face and his smile fades. He clicks his tongue in disapproval. “Would you calm down, you vixen? I can practically smell the fear oozing out of your pores.”

A frown makes its way onto your face without you wanting to.

A beat of silence passes and he looks away before speaking up again in a softer tone. “You misunderstood my intentions. I simply wish for you to lie down with me.”

Your scowl melts into a confused expression, now more perplexed than anything. 

But the most perplexing part of all this is the fact that you don’t find yourself completely opposed to the idea. On the contrary, you were almost tempted by it. 

“Do not make me wait,” he speaks. Although this time, it sounds like a request disguised as an order. “Don’t you think you’ve already made me wait far too long for you?” He adds, voice quiet. 

You finally comply, albeit hesitantly, and sit down next to him. You move carefully, as though one wrong move could mean the end for you. And considering you were dealing with Sukuna, you weren’t exercising unnecessary caution. 

“Loosen up. I won’t eat you.” He scoffs and instantly pulls you by the waist. 

All four of his arms pull you against him and make you lay on your side. One of them moves to pull the soft covers over you. He clutches you tighter against his form. Almost as if he were a child tucking himself to sleep, holding onto his favourite plushie. 

You barely hold back a small chuckle at the mental image. 

“Is this amusing to you?”

You freeze, cursing yourself for failing to conceal your emotions. “... perhaps.” you blurt honestly.

He lets out a short grunt, and nuzzles his head against your neck. “Just go to sleep.”

masterlist a/n: reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated. also pls dont be shy abt commenting i love it when ppl do that <3

you quickly roll the perfume on your neck and wrists, hurriedly checking your appearance in the bathroom mirror and inhaling deeply to prepare yourself for whatever outcome was awaiting you.

"my love, can you come here?" suguru geto calls out from his study, frustration evident in his voice.

"coming!" you hide the perfume somewhere reliable and head upstairs. when you enter his study, he's pacing, his forehead tense and tie loosened around his neck. he lights up somewhat at the sight of you, before asking, "have you seen the papers i was grading?"

you relax. "yeah, i hid them away from your..." you motion towards the three mugs on his desk, still stained with coffee from hours ago, "mess." that earns you a sheepish smile from him, and you shake your head fondly before retrieving said papers from one of his file cabinets. he sighs in relief and takes them from you, pressing a grateful kiss to your lips.

"i don't know what i'd do without you," he laughs, wrapping an arm around your neck and kissing your temple. you lean into his embrace and let him rest his chin on your head for a moment, feeling his chest rise and fall with a deep intake of breath. he tends to become more affectionate when he's under a lot of stress, and you can see a slight tremble in his hand as he places the papers on the desk behind him.

his brows furrow. "i may be caffeine-blooded right now, but do you smell different?" he asks, inhaling the scent drifting from your neck. "is this the one i bought you?"

you squirm when he lowers his head to your collarbone, his large hands resting on your lower back to steady you. leaning back, you allow him further access, while also being mindful of your own intentions.

"no, uh, this one's from the drugstore." geto starts to push your hair behind your ear and nibble at your adam's apple, your hands finding leverage on his broad shoulders. "careful!" you scold when he presses you against the cabinet behind you.

he pauses his kisses to gaze up at you through his lashes, a brow raised in question of your small smile.

"what?" you feign innocence.

geto catches the glint in your eye and has a relative idea of what you've done.

"you temptress."

before coming home from work, you applied some of the perfume in your car and take one last sniff of it when you step onto the welcome mat at your front door. you kick your heels off and announce yourself, to which you hear kento nanami say, "in the living room."

throwing your bag on the floor beside your heels, you rush to your husband as fast as you can with the ache in your feet, finding him engrossed in a book with his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. you throw your arms around his neck from behind with a loud exhale of breath, nuzzling your cheek into his hair.

"kentooo, i missed you so much," you whine, feeling his hands reach up to rest on yours.

his deep chuckle resonates through you. "as did i, sweetheart. i'm glad you're home safe."

you unbutton your blazer and toss it over the back of the couch before throwing yourself down beside him, snuggling into his side. nanami places his book down on the coffee table before leaning down, back bent, to kiss you. he groans into it and gently brushes your hair out of your face.

after the prolonged intimate moment, you pull away and let him tug you closer, allowing your head to fall on his shoulder.

"you smell nice," he mutters, kissing your hairline.

"thanks."

you expect him to tell you about his day, or at least about the book he's reading—as he usually does. instead, he's quiet, not uncharacteristically so, but enough for you to notice small changes like the tightening of his grip on you.

he lifts his head and looks you over. "what perfume brand is that? it's," he clears his throat, "very strong."

you pout. "a bad strong?"

"...not exactly."

nanami wraps an arm around your shoulders, humming lowly when you angle your body just so to let your legs stretch out over his lap. he begins massaging your calves and, unsubtly, glances at you every so often.

"what?"

"nothing," he responds, a little too quickly, you notice. you can tell that he's picked up on the intoxicating aspect of the scent and it makes it very hard to contain your smile.

it's silent for a moment, before nanami curses under his breath and dives in to kiss you again, catching you immensely off guard. you whimper into the notably rougher, needier kiss. he takes advantage of your released noises and slips his tongue past your lips, a kiss that was just needy now turned sloppy. hell, you feel yourself start to drool.

when you part for air, he takes his glasses off and tosses them onto the table, before leaning over you and forcing you to lay back on the couch. "i know you've done something," he rasps, "but as of right now..." he starts kissing your neck, "i don't have the sense to figure out what."

you've devised a plan on how to tempt toji fushiguro more than you already do—by rolling on the perfume you have seen people rave about online for the past month. only, you need a way to get toji to smell it without making it completely obvious as to what you're doing.

so while he's lounging on the couch, scratching his chest and staring at the tv absentmindedly, you decide to shroud your plan under the guise of making him something to snack on. you grab whatever you find in the pantry and decorate a plate with it, making it look somewhat appetising, before placing it before him on the coffee table.

the corner of his lips twitch. "you're too good to me, ma." he pulls you into his lap and pecks your lips. "thank you."

"of course. was thinking takeout for lunch. what do you think?" he hums in the affirmative and slides a hand along your waist to rest on the soft expanse of your stomach.

you lean into his chest, letting his calloused albeit comforting touch lull you into a sense of relaxation, even as the sound of gunshots ring from the tv and blast into your ears. the moment seems to draw out without him picking up on your scent, so you shift in his lap and lean slightly closer into his chest, making it seem as though you want to cuddle (which, hey, you do, but it doubles as the perfect excuse to let your aroma drift closer to him).

when he bites into a small slab of chocolate, he catches sight of your anticipatory expression from his peripheral vision. he swallows, brow raised. "these some of those viagra-chocolates, or what? you're lookin' like you wanna jump my bones."

"what—i don't wanna 'jump your bones,' toji." you roll your eyes and grab his jaw to forcibly turn his gaze back to the tv.

"so you wanna tell me why you're givin' me those eyes?"

"what eyes? can i not admire you?" you retort gently, but don't fail to notice the way his hand on your stomach pulls you closer. only then does he lean down and start sniffing consciously.

"damn," he groans. "what the hell do you have on, ma? got me scenting you 'n everything."

"nothinggg," you whine, feeling him tug you even closer so that your back presses up against his chest. you try your best to keep your attention limited to the tv, but it's growing harder to do so when he starts nipping at and kissing your neck. "i'm trying to watch, baby."

"nah, we can do that later," is all he says before pushing you flat on the couch, crawling up your body and lowering his face to yours. "think i need to investigate a little more to figure out what you're plotting."

"n—"

"if you say 'nothing' again, i will throw you over my knee."

your lady in waiting was noticeably hesitant to let you go through with this, but instead of vetoing it with more than just words, she watches you with pursed lips and underlying curiosity as you roll the perfume on your neck, wrists, and behind your ears. it wasn't as if ryomen sukuna would kill you for this—you're his wife, for heaven's sake. frankly, you were giddy at the thought of what he might do upon catching on to your little scheme.

so, later, when you're in your chambers watching sukuna loosen the tie of his robe and approach you with heavy steps, you're practically jumping out of your skin with anticipation.

"wife," he starts, voice gruff, "i expect that no mishaps disturbed your day?" the king of curses always checks up on you, but you know that if anything or anyone were to upset you, he would deal with whatever or whoever it was without you hearing of it. a formality, of sorts, that he should check up on his wife's wellbeing. a requirement, that he should deal with your concerns without burdening you.

"of course not," you insist. "a new child join the nursery today. quite the shy one, he is. poor boy didn't know a whisper of tongue."

he huffs in acknowledgement of your small predicament. one of his upper arms encircle your waist to lift you to his chest, prompting you to wrap your arms and legs around him—your usual routine after finally being able to retire to your chambers after the monotonous responsibilities that awaited the two of you daily.

one of his lower arms slides under your ass to hold you up, not that he needed the extra leverage; the arm around your waist was enough. but any excuse to have his arms around you without coming off as too clingy, he would take without so much as a hint that he enjoyed it.

it's when your head slips under his chin to rest against his collarbone does he comment. "are you experimenting with herbs again?" he grunts, sitting you in his lap once he's settled on the futon with his back against the wall.

your head tilts slightly. "no, my love. why do you ask?"

"you reek."

"how kind of you, ryomen."

"you have never known me to be kind, woman. explain yourself."

"if you must know, i have applied some incense. i only recently had it delivered from that dear old vendor in ichihime."

sukuna doesn't speak for a moment, allowing himself to be lured closer to your fragranced skin. when you feel his tongue lap at your neck experimentally, you flinch and smack his chest reproachingly.

"it is not the worst of them."

from the king of curses, that was very high praise.

and from the way his pupils dilate, you're certain he isn't going to let you off with a simple lick to your neck.

if there was one person you loved pulling this crap on, it was shiu kong. you never saw the man without his phone pressed to his ear and a cigarette dangling from in between his lips, so it made it all the more satisfying when you managed to get the jump on him and make him lose grip on his usual nonchalance.

you should be home by now, ordering takeout and binging your favourite show with your feet up, not still in the office with the man who seems to love work-life more than home-life.

"shiuuu," you call out from your own cubicle, as if you don't already know that he's taking a call and he's more likely to subconsciously tune you out than even consider that his wife may be looking for him. it's nothing personal; you're very much aware that years of working as a catalyst for murder and assassinations changes your priorities.

when you knock on his ajar door to get his attention, he glances over at you and nods, beckoning you inside with his index and middle finger. you shut the door behind you and approach his desk with measured steps, approaching him intently.

you reach up to caress his cheek, letting the perfume on your wrist waft into his nostrils, and smile (not so) innocently at him when he turns his head and kisses your palm.

the scent hits him like a dopamine hit and his voice instantly loses its clarity. he doesn't start stuttering, by any means, but his right leg starts bouncing. when he physically turns his head away from you, you know you could start trashing the place and he wouldn't say a thing—only stare at you with that intoxicated gaze of sheer want.

sighing, you round his desk to be in his line of sight again.

"no, fushiguro, you either keep this under wraps or forget about the 40mil... what? no, we can't have a celebratory dinner. i'd rather chew on a jean jacket than—"

you bat your lashes at him.

"i'll call you back."

and within the second that it takes him to hang up and toss his phone aside, shiu has launched himself on you, fuelled by the giggles of a woman who knows what she's doing to him—while he is entirely oblivious to the fact that the fog enveloping his mind is directly from the perfume he inhaled not more than a minute ago.

"you," he rasps, pawing at your waist and even further down your body, "are a problem."

"mm, is that what you call me now?"

"oh, shut it," he practically growls, but there's anything but malice in his voice—just the deep baritones of a man overcome by desire.

hiromi higuruma was the person you were most determined needed this distraction. it was getting to a point where your dates turned into facetime calls and hour-long texting sessions, and, frankly, you wanted more. it's not to say that you were sick of it, but being with a man like higuruma meant you had needs and his attention was all you needed.

he's been cooped up in his home office for the past six hours, leaving only to go to the bathroom or check up on you (which consisted of him asking, "what are you up to, darling?", kissing your cheek, then heading back up to continue his hermit-ing). is it really so out of the ordinary for you to crave more?

no. so you do something about it.

besides you, coffee is the one thing higuruma would invite as a distraction; if the eight empty mugs on his desk were anything to go by. so, you deliver your gorgeous self with a fresh brew to his office door. you knock, just in case he's taking a call, and enter when he calls you in.

he's tired, that much is clear, but he's reserved enough strength to smile softly as you approach him.

"hi, my love. thought i'd bring you another. and clean all this," you say, picking up the dirty mugs and placing them by the window.

"no need. i'll wash them myself," he insists, humming lowly when you stand near him again, this time enough to stroke a hand through his hair.

but, when you first lift your hand to do so, the perfume on your wrist permeates the air and wriggles into the radius of his senses.

"new fragrance?"

"mhm. you like?"

he inhales deeply, and you take that as a hard yes. "yeah. amber musk?"

you grin. "something like that."

higuruma, for all his assertiveness, grabs your hand tenderly, enough to make you miss him despite the skin-to-skin contact. he presses it to his cheek but turns his head just so that he may lavish your palm with kisses (and perhaps breathe in your new scent like it's oxygen).

"it's... really nice," he breathes out, practically gasping at the reprieve you've given him. "forgive me—just let me feel you."

and you do, all the while leaning against the edge of his desk and blood heating at his touch. hell, you intended for this to happen; you're not about to close the door in your own face. you need this as much as he does.

he practically falls into a state of delirium as he kisses every sliver of skin he detects, his breath laboured and hot on your flesh. it's enough of a rush to know that you bring this man to his knees—literally and figuratively—let alone feel him touch you almost reverently.

"work's tough, huh?"

he groans into the plush skin of your stomach. that's also a hard yes.

"you smell so good, my love. i think i can go another six hours just off the scent of you alone."

"let me help you with that, then," you whisper, and that's all the encouragement he needs to loosen his tie and let himself get lost in you.

the biggest difficulty of pulling this off was getting choso kamo off your back for longer than a minute to spritz your pulse points with the new perfume you just had delivered. you'd be damned if you weren't going to engage with the newest trend flooding your socials, especially when this one was actually good.

"baby, what's that smell?" choso calls out from the bedroom.

you shove the small bottle into one of the bathroom cabinets and try to slow your steps as you walk back into the bedroom with a small smile. "just some perfume, baby. i like applying some before bed, remember?"

"i remember, but this one smells different. a-a good different," he quickly emphasises.

choso looks so stiff, not making any effort to get into the bed he so carefully prepared for the night, and confines his attention to you and—gosh—that sweet scent.

"you okay?" you ask, lifting the covers and slipping into bed, prompting him to finally do the same as if you snapped your fingers in his entranced face.

"yeah, i'm alright. i'm... i'm okay."

he assumes his usual sleeping position, wrapping an arm around your waist and pressing his front to your back. all the better for him to catch on, you muse. and if he doesn't, i'm reporting the video that inspired me to do this crap.

a prolonged pause then nips at your nerves, a stark contrast to the nightly and practically autonomous mumbles of "good night," "i love you," and "sleep well." the silence is so thick that it settles behind your eyes and makes it impossible to even consider falling asleep.

but, it's not that choso hasn't noticed. no, the poor man is drowning in your scent, so unsure of how to comment on it without making it seem as though it's bothering him—even though it is, a lot.

"b-baby?" he whispers into your hair.

"hm?"

"you smell really nice. it's... making me restless."

you smile tiredly. "i can tell. do you need help?"

though it's dark and your back is turned so you cannot see it, his eyes widen slightly. "you mean...?"

"mhm. i don't mind staying up another hour."

he sits up. "can we make it two?"

"don't push it."

"mmm, okay, sorry."

okkotsu yuta is always more than happy to oblige your hobbies, your cravings, even. he doesn't see temper loss as an option with you, not because he has to suppress the urge to snap, but because he cannot find it within the darkest depths of his soul to direct his frustration at you—and you've seen him mad. just never at you.

that's why you don't have to worry about pulling something like this. the man is already infatuated with you, this whole thing was entirely unnecessary. but when did you ever do these things out of necessity?

"hey, honey? can you come here for a sec?"

yuta is in the kitchen within seconds, already approaching you from behind. "i'm here, dove. what d'ya need?"

he just sounds happy to be there, to be of any assistance to you, and you're more than geeked at the reality prospect of having him follow you around for the rest of his days.

"can you grab those cookies for me?" you pout, while making absolutely zero effort to reach for them.

he looks up at the open cabinet, then back down at you. "you've never had a problem before. did you hurt your arm? let me see—"

"no, honey," you interject, laughing breathily. "just not bothered."

he nods like that's a completely acceptable excuse—you won't let anyone tell you that it's not—and reaches for the plastic box before placing it on the counter in front of you. "there."

you hum in satisfaction and take a cookie, bringing it up to his lips. "try them. they're new."

your wrist brushes against his chin and the underside of his nose. it gives him very brief pause, but then he's biting into the baked good as if nothing is amiss. you notice the subtle hitch in his breath when he inhales and almost groan in annoyance when he does little more.

"they're a little too sweet for my liking," he notes out loud.

with a doubtful look, you say, "they're only sweetened with coconut oil and dark chocolate."

he purses his lips in consideration, brows furrowed. "are you sure? where's all the sweetness from then?"

"external, ahem, sources."

your wrist manages to sway past his nose again, and that's when he registers that you not only smell of musk, but have an aroma that would make a lesser mammal believe you are the embodiment of a baked good.

"i might need to start calling you honey," he murmurs, now delving his head into the crook of your neck, where he gets another gust of that luscious scent.

you snort. "you're so corny."

"i am... something that rhymes with that, yeah." he smiles sheepishly.