#yuta fluff

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.

Yuta presses his hand to your cheek, before moving it to your forehead. You're burning up for sure, and it's making his heart squeeze on his chest. You finally open your eyes, noting the sadness in his. But before you can reassure him, he's already on the move. "Wait for me, I'll be right back."

You accidentally fall asleep while he's gone, waking up at the feeling of a washcloth being gently pressed against your forehead. You open your eyes blearily, a soft smile gracing your boyfriend's features.

"You're awake. I made you some soup, I know you probably haven't eaten." ...he hit the nail in the head. "It's all natural, 'kay? No cup noodles for my darling. You should have it now before it gets cold."

How he got soup done so fast by himself you don't know, you probably fell asleep for longer than you thought. Still, you humor him, slowly getting up, not without being immediately assisted by him.

After successfully sitting up with your back against the headboard, Yuta holds the bowl and tries feed you. You huff, you're not that tired to be unable to feed yourself, but the gentle nudge of the spoon against your lips makes you cave. You instantly hum in delight, genuinely how he made something this good with your practically empty fridge is beyond you. Makes you realize he probably bought everything himself in the way. Oh, Yuta. Your dangerously considerate boyfriend.

"Is it good?" He asks as he feeds you, and you nod in response. He visibly softens, continuing to feed you until you can't eat anymore.

Yuta sets the bowl aside, patting your head and telling you that you did a good job by eating almost all of it. As if you were a little kid. You kinda wanna flip him off, but god do those headpats feel nice.

Gently easing you back in the covers, Yuta rubs your cheek with his thumb. "I'll stay with you all day," He announces, and you can tell he meant to from the start.

Yuta's doting on you like he's got nowhere else he'd rather be, but you know there are other places where he should be right now. What if a powerful curse is spotted and they need his help? You'll feel a bit bad if you hoard his attention the whole day. And though it's pointless to try, and how stubborn you know him to be when it comes to you, you still have the gall to attempt it.

"Yuta...?" You mumble, your voice groggy and quiet from not having spoken all day. His eyes immediately fix on your face, something about your unusually soft tone doing a number on his heart. "Yes, angel?"

"You don't have to stay the whole day, I feel better now."

You push through the ache in your throat to speak, and oh, he notices. Wetting the rag from earlier again, he smiles ever so softly, before giving you the most deadpan "no ♥" he can muster.

You blink, sighing. "I mean it-" but he's already pressing a finger to your lips.

"Don't strain yourself, love, I bet it's difficult for you to talk right now." He pauses. "Wait, does your throat hurt much? I can ask Toge for the medicine he uses. Actually, how do you feel about sign language for the time being? You won't have to speak and it's pretty-"

"Yu. I'm serious." You interrupt him, cringing at how your own now wobbly voice reminds you of Rika's for a second. Yuta wrings out the cloth and places it on your forehead, before caressing your face again.

"Oh, my angel, always thinking of others before yourself. I want to stay and make sure you're well fed and hydrated, it doesn't bother me in the slightest. The rest of the world can be taken care of by someone else, but I'm the one to take care of you."

You grumble pityfully at his expected refusal, the sound more a whine than anything. Yuta exhales a soft laugh, fingers tapping your cheeks. "You look so cute like this, with your face all puffed up. Like a little squirrel."

You're certain your reddened eyes and swollen face look everything but nice right now, but fighting Yuta on that would be like arguing with a wall. You tire of his poking with time, moving your head to try and bite his finger. He flinches at first, successfully avoiding it, before smiling and poking you again. Literally letting you bite him again if you want to.

"So aggresive, darling." So lovesick, Yuta.

"You're being annoying." You croak, and his face softens further at your voice, if possible.

"Sorry, I can't hear you over your squeaking. You sound like a little mouse, you know? It's adorable." You bite him for real this time, but his smile only widens, finding your attempt at aggression lovable. It seems to be all it takes for the affection in his chest to burst, because in a second, he drops everything and embraces you, attached to your body like a leech.

Oh, this is bad. You've somehow triggered Yuta's clinginess, and you know it's difficult to escape from it. He just doesn't attend to reason in this state, even though he could literally get sick from being close to you. You try to push him away, but he only nuzzles closer.

"Get off... you'll get sick." You complain half-heartedly, but he only squeezes you further.

"I'm just sharing my body heat with you."

"That's not how it works."

"It is, trust me."

Okay, he's definitely bullshitting now. Purring like a contented cat, Yuta has his nose buried against your neck and his arms held tightly around you. He keeps going off on how much he loves you and how adorable you are, pinching your cheek. He remains gentle, though, always careful not to hurt you, specially knowing you're unwell.

Long story short, you are not able to get Yuta to stay away from you. The warmth of his arms makes you sleepy again, and you end up falling asleep while cradled against his chest. Two days later, you already feel better, but find that Yuta has gotten sick instead.

With a sigh, you tuck him in bed and scold him, telling him how this could have been avoided had he listened to you.

Yuta apologizes meekly while leaning into your touch, only half-listening.

That's how you know he doesn't regret a single thing.

❀ Nanami Kento

It's too early for you to be up.

You know it, your drooping eyes are telling you so, and you sure know your dear husband would point out the same thing. He won't be able to do so until he wakes, though, so you're trying to make most of the time you have until then.

You have a valid excuse to be doing this, anyway. After eyeing a beautiful new bakery that's right on Nanami's way to work, you shared your discovery with him immediately. You thought he'd like to get some baked goods to bring to work, something to keep him in a good mood. You couldn't make him food that required to stay fresh the night before after all, and he was firm on not letting you get up so early just to make him breakfast.

But how could you not after he told you he had to go in earlier today, and that he wouldn't have time to go by?

Specially, after watching the slight dissapointment in his face be masked so he wouldn't worry you?

Maybe to him it was a small thing, but you could barely sleep after that. So for your husband that's always looking for little things to make you happy and accomodate your life, you got up early for bed and began baking.

You went for blueberry bread. you had frozen blueberries you had bought to make some smoothies, so it was a good pick (you could always buy more later, anyway). Following a recipe you found in the internet, you're now putting your creation in the oven, a proud smile in your face at the progress you've made.

The only problem is that you now have to wait. Like, an hour or so. You don't know if you'll have enough time to finish it before your husband wakes up, and it's making you pretty nervous.

To occupy your mind, you use the rest of the of the ingredients to make blueberry muffins. After some time, you're also done with their preparation, the muffin tin sitting in the counter and waiting for it's turn to be baked—the reminder that Nanami's alarm will probably go off soon making your anxiety spike up.

You scroll in you phone, scoop the remaining batter with your finger and eat it, and literally do anything to distract yourself. When it's close to the finish time estimate, you look into the oven, following the toothpick trick to check if your blueberry bread is miraculously finished ahead of time. It is not. With a groan, you let it continue.

When it's been exactly an hour, you try again, your toothpick still not coming out clean. You're getting stressed, you really wanted to surprise him. It's not a surprise if he catches you in the act. So in your distress, you bump the temperature up slightly, hoping it somehow helps.

Rookie mistake. The classic 'if the heat's high it'll cook faster' mentality. At your age it should be obvious that it doesn't work like that... but you're also kinda desperate and not in your right mind.

You let your poor oven work again, pacing in the kitchen. You genuinely hope your muffins are still in good shape. Actually, should you put them in the fridge for the time being? No, your bread will be ready to come out any second now. You'll just give it a minute, and it'll be fine. What if, in the meantime, you just keep scooping the batter from the bowl until it's entirely clean? It's tasty, distracting, and you're pretty sure you left something in there. You're sure that when you're done with it, the bread will be in perfect shape.

Too lost in your thoughts, you don't even look where you're walking, suddenly bumping into something solid. Your tired brain thinks it may be the fridge for a second, but this is softer, and warmer. Looking up, your eyes widen, right in time for a familiar voice to reach your ears.

"Dear? Why are you awake at this time?" You freeze entirely, caught red-handed. Nanami's standing in front of you, weary eyes fixed on your frame. His hair's tousled, and he's still wearing his pajamas, clearly not having begun to prepare for work yet.

Wait... isn't it a bit early? You're pretty sure his alarm would go off a bit later than now. You checked it on his phone. He probably realized you weren't in bed anymore, and went looking for you... Now that you think of it, you were lucky he didn't wake due to our absence sooner.

"Ken!" You jolt, giving him a sheepish smile. "I could't sleep well, woke up a bit early. I wanted to make some tea. Why don't you go back to bed? You said you'd set your alarm for like... 10 minutes from now, no? You should enjoy those while you still can. I'll prepare a cup for you too!"

Your rambling does little to appease him, judging by the way he's barely budging as you push him out of the kitchen. Placing his hands on your arms, he makes you halt, eyes locking into yours. "Are you sure you just wanted to make some tea?"

You're practically sweating. "Yes...?"

"Oh, really? Because I can smell something else in the air, and it's something closer to dough and flour than the teabags you tend to buy."

You exhale heavily, giving up. A not so discreet glance towards the oven and the cupcake tin still in the counter lets you know that pretending is useless, you're busted.

Mind telling what you were actually up to, sweetheart?" Nanami prods in that low, rough from sleep voice, nudging your chin so you'd look at him, and you relent.

"I just wanted to bake something for you, Ken," you admit in a small voice, "since you weren't going to be able to stop and get something after all. I noticed you looked like you wanted to try that bakery for a second, before realizing it wouldn't be possible... I wanted to satisfy that craving in a way."

Nanami's brows rise slightly, all the drowsiness leaving his body for a second. It didn't take a genius to realize you were baking, it was obvious the moment he got a whiff of the scent in the air. Still, knowing you, this could've been something you randomly decided to get up to— you give him enough gray hairs with your shenanigans in the daily. So to make the correlation and realize you were doing this for him does something devastating to his heart.

"Oh, darling... you didn't have to." Nanami murmurs, voice still groggy from sleep. "I wasn't going to be bothered by it. We could've gone to that place together some other day. There was no need for you to sacrifice your sleep for me."

"I know, but I wanted to." You insist. "That's what you'd do for me, anyway. I wanted to take the opportunity to do something nice for you too, regardless of how convenient it'd be."

Oh, of course you wanted to. He knew you'd say that. His heart squeezes in his chest, his thumb now brushing your jaw. "Well, isn't my dear spouse so thoughtful. There's no stopping you at this point, so I'll just say I'm glad you thought of me."

"i always think of you, Ken," You whisper, before looking away, "I just wished I had finished before you came. I wanted to surprise you."

Again, of course you'd feel bad about that. With a sigh, he presses a kiss to your forehead, fighting the inmense affection he feels for you at this moment.

"There's no need for surprises, sweetheart. You've already made me happy with the sole intention."

Your eyes soften at his words, a faint smile gracing your lips. He wipes away a smudge of batter left in your cheek, his touch gentle as always. You giggle softly at the contact, some of the sadness from feeling unsuccessful lifting. His heart lurches violently in his chest, making him lean in and rest his head on your shoulder.

"You're something else, seriously. Reducing a working man to nothing with sweet gestures hours before his shift. I don't know how you expect me to survive." He mumbles against your shoulder, voice slightly muffled.

"You're exaggerating, love," You reply, now smiling widely.

"Not when you look at me like that, I differ," He says after he meets your gaze, looking completely smitten.

Your hand slides to the back of his neck, his forehead resting against yours. Nanami leans down just enough to press a kiss against the corner of your mouth, almost spell bound.

In a shaky breath, Nanami mutters, "I don't doubt your skills, but I don't think what you're making can surpass the sweetness of your kisses."

With a smile, you tilt your head, "Why don't you get a taste before checking?"

Nanami exhales softly, trying to rein in his emotions. His eyes are fixed on yours, closing the distance painstakingly slow,

...until a thought makes you pull back.

Nanami barely processes it, concern in confusion reflected in his face. "What's wrong, darling?"

But the horror in your face is unshakeable.

"The bread!"

You only notice the smell of smoke in this moment, coughing when you open the oven. You weren't supposed to leave it at such a high temperature for long! Damn it, you weren't supposed to bump the heat up in the first place!

Almost burning yourself by touching the loaf pan barehanded, Nanami carefully steps you aside, putting on the oven mitts and getting your bread out of the oven.

It looks... questionable, to say the least. Practically burnt in most of the outside, not really fully baked in the inside. Your last minute decision comes back to haunt you right now, the uneven finish of your work reminding you why you must never try to rush procedures in the kitchen.

It loos so pitiful you want to cry, shaking your head in disbelief. Nanami, attentive as always, notices, taking off the mitts and making you look at him. "Don't look so discouraged, it appears edible. You did a good job for a first time."

Oh, bless his sweet soul for trying to comfort you despite your mess of a creation. "I'll try it anyway," He promises, and now you want to cry out of emotion.

"You really will...? You don't have to. I know it doesn't look appealing."

"Maybe not, but you made it for me. I'd be a really bad husband if I didn't try what my spouse sacrificed so much to make, right?"

You hug him at his touching comment, and he embraces you. Tightly, oh, so tightly. You're so sweet you don't even know it, killing him with how caring you are. He wishes he could just hold you in his arms the whole day, but alas responsabilities are awaiting him.

"Ken, wait," You say after pull away (because of course he didn't do it first), "I made some muffins in the side too. Why don't you go prepare for work while I bake those? They take less time. Then you can actually leave with something decent."

Nanami smiles at your thoughtfulness, already thinking on how you can make up for this—as if he were unhappy in the first place. With a new kiss to your cheek, and another, and another, he nods in acceptance. "Whatever you want, sweetheart."

You're smiling really hard at his attention. Not like he doesn't give you plenty already, but it's not so common to wake up and have this amount of affection being handed to you so easily. You usher him out of the kitchen, a fond laugh escaping him, as you both get to work in your respective areas.

Almost an hour and so later, you're already done. Patient pays off miraculously, and your muffins are in perfect shape. Nanami stays in the kitchen with you for a bit, the two of you proof tasting what you made. And when he hums and mutters "delicious", you get so happy you could burst.

You pack a muffin for him, and some of your bread in the side per his request (he really is adamant in showing you he cares). With a goodbye kiss and an 'I love you', you part ways for the day. Him, to work, and you... probably to bed. You still have some unfinished business over there.

At work, Nanami was the only one who arrived (a few minutes) late to the meeting.

But, he was also the only one who brought blueberry bread and muffins made by his lovely spouse to work.

The affection he felt at home is still sitting in his chest, getting close to affecting his productivity and focus with how intensely he's feeling it.

But as he stares at the half-burnt, crispy bread with incomparable love and longing, he knows that out all of his coworkers, he's the one who's having the best morning.

❀ Geto Suguru

The temperatures are rising as summer rolls by, food and game stalls being set up somewhere around. Festivals are popular around this season, so you went ahead with all the preparations so you, Geto, Mimiko and Nanako could all go and have some fun at it. It's the first time you go to a festival like this, at least in a while, and you can't help but feel excited. So while Geto had to finish some affairs before meeting you three, you and the girls were shopping for comfortable and cute attire to wear for the festival.

Geto has to admit, the thought has him in a mellow state. Just picturing his girls shopping and having fun together is a wholesome thought, he wishes he could be there helping you all pick. Sadly, responsabilities won't just dissapear if he ignores them in your favor, and you'll probably be finished when he's there to pick you all up.

It's boresome, and pretty dissapointing. The only thing that's keeping him going is knowing he'll get to see you all dressed up by then. But hey... who says he can't just check how you're doing while he gets there? And maybe get a sneak peek. The thought makes itself home in his mind, and soon enough he's facetiming you with anticipation.

The phone rings once, twice... before it's picked up, except not by who he was expecting. Two familiar faces take up the whole screen, speaking in unison in a high pitched tone. "Hello, Mr. Geto!"

A smile makes it way to his lips, tilting his head questioningly. "Hello to you two. What are you up to, and why's this phone not with its rightful owner?"

"Oh, we're in the changing room!" Nanako answers, "(name)'s inside a booth right now, so we picked it up for her." A muffled "hi!" can be heard, your voice recognizable despite the distance.

"Hi, sweetheart," He answers you before directing his attention back to the girls, "So I assume you're both done picking your outfits?"

"Mhm! We are." "We would've been done sooner if Mimiko wasn't so indecisive." "Hey, you tried out half of the store's clothes!" "You-!"

"Now, now. No need to fight." Geto interrupts, to which they straighten up immediately.

Mimiko resumes speaking, calmer now. "We're just waiting for her. You should tell her something, Mr. Geto. She's been trying on outfits for longer than us combined."

"Not true!" You argued, and he almost wanted to laughed at how you, so fixated on being a good role model for the girls, couldn't help but join the banter when prompted.

"...I just don't tend wear traditional clothing," You comented from inside, a bit of sulking to your tone. "So I don't feel like they suit me."

"Big fat lie, by the way," One of the girls chimes in, "you should come out and pick one of the last ten you tried on. They all looked amazing."

"Actually, I'm inclined to agree with them, pretty girl." Geto adds as if he had seen it all, playfulness lacing his tone. "Why don't you show me?"

"...You?" Your hand froze at the handle, an obvious pause going in there. You sigh, before the door budges and gives in. "...Fine."

Nanako, who was holding the phone, flips the camera and points it towards you. And though he's seen you in beautiful outfits before, he can't help but be blown away by the sight. You're wearing a yukata with an intricate floral pattern, its vibrant colors highlighting your natural features. The true cherry on top for him is the shy expression you're sporting, hands folded together meekly as you wait for judgement.

"So...?" You mutter at his continued silence, the girls both leaving squeals and hums of approval. Geto, blinks, recomposing himself. "You look beautiful, as expected. You should pick that one."

"You haven't even looked at the other options..." You complain, but you feel your face heating up at that compliment in such a confident tone.

Geto only smiles, "I'm sure you'll look equally mesmerizing, no matter the choice. You always do, sweetheart."

A chorus of "eww" and "stopp!" come out from the pair behind the phone, making him chuckle lightly. An idea strikes him, making him straighten up. "Can you all get in frame together? I need to see all of your outfits combined."

That gets them to stop whining, adjusting so you'd all be shown in front of the camera with a good look of your clothing. The sight of you with the girls he raised, all wearing matching yukatas, cute hair accessories and showing your pretty smiles almost kills him in the spot. He already has enough when you send them pictures of your hang outs together, his heart warming at how the three people he adores grow closer so smoothly. But now? He can't even hear Nanako explain the process of their choice or Mimiko's comments on the hairstyles, as he's stuck in this state of awe.

"Suguru?" Your voice brings him back to earth, he was deep into a trance for a second.

"Why did you turn off the camera?" You ask, and only now he realizes he did that out of reflex. His brain worked slow, but his sense of embarrassment didn't, apparently.

His brain scrambles for an excuse, he's completely bluescreened. For someone who prides himself in being composed, he's not living up to it at the moment. He skips giving an explanation, instead changing the topic. "...I'm almost there, I should focus on the road. You all wait for me right there."

"...Alright, we'll wrap things up over here, then." You roll with it smoothly, and he's thankful. Now hanging up the call, he stops the car in the nearest place he can, hands sliding from the steering wheel as he rests his head against it. Oh, he's doomed doomed. His heart hasn't stopped racing. Geto wants to put you all in a snow globe and shake it relentlessly. That wouldn't be morally correct nor safe, so he brushes the thought away.

All he has to do is calm down enough he doesn't squeeze the guts out of your body when he sees you. Which is proving to be dificult, by the way.

Geto arrives 15 minutes later than expected, heart heavy but mellowed out at this point. He blames his lateness on traffic, once again diverting the topic and talking about the festival instead. Only he knows the demons he had to fight to act normal when he saw his girls all dolled up acting adorable together.

If the way he struggles to keep his gaze off you after picking you guys up says anything, he'll have a hell of a day. In the best way possible, but still. If you catch him staring, please look the other way. No one else can now how soft he gets when it's just the four of you.

❀ Ino Takuma

"You are... a force of evil."

"Huh?"

Sat in the couch with a bowl of ramen in your lap, you blink cluelessly at Ino, confused by his sudden outburst. He's been reviewing some info beside you about a curse sighting, studying diligently so he can make Nanami proud. He had been pretty calm, humming and making comments to himself, so this sudden energy rush makes no sense. Or at least it doesn't for you, who failed to notice him stealing glances at you every once in a while.

Thing is, you had just woken up recently. Still in your hello kitty pajamas and with your hair messed up, Ino can hardly resist you. All he wants is to ditch work, lead you back to bed and cuddle you until noon. But you woke up pretty late and are reasonably hungry, and he knows better than to bother you when you're in such a state.

He knows better, but he can only resist so much. You look so huggable in the mornings, and it doesn't help that you're doing such domestic things right beside him. Like trying to hold your bowl earlier to eat and flinching at how hot it was, your chopticks slipping from your fingers from how dazed you are from sleep, and the ocassional grumble from that early grumpiness.

You don't find it amusing. You're just trying to start your day albeit late, and the little misfortunes happening are not doing any favors to your mood. But all Ino's brain fixated with is your early clumsiness and how adorable it is.

That's why it wasn't long before he snapped, with you still staring at him in utter confusion. Ino doesn't elaborate, grumbling like a child throwing a fit, making you squint at him further. "What?"

"You're just... there. Being distracting. I'm trying to work, you know?" He accuses dramatically, as if you were actively trying to inconvenience him.

"Takuma, I'm not doing anything, I'm just hungry and trying to eat some noodles. You were pretty focused just now, just get back to it." You cross your arms, stating the obvious. Sometimes you feel like you're scolding him whenever he pulls up some nonsense, but you're both too used to it to mind. He adores some tough love, he's said himself. You're just not fond of being annoyed when you're eating.

"Okay, okay, bad timing," He acknowledges, "but your presence is still distracting me."

"I was here first, silly."

"But I'm most comfortable in the couch!"

"Then I'll just eat at the-" "No."

"Takuma..." You're using the scarier tone now, his hand which had fled to your wrist quickly retreating. You exhale. "So you can't focus with me here, but you don't want me to leave. Won't you at least tell me what am I doing that's so distracting, so I can stop it?"

"Well, you're just..." He trails off. "...I'll just get back to work."

You raise an eyebrow, not expecting him to give up so suddenly, but don't question it. You look at him for a second longer, watching him go back to reviewing the info from earlier, before focusing on your food again.

Did he just want attention? Clingy man. You love that from him, but right now you've got bigger fish to fry. Or eat, technically.

Meanwhile, Ino is doing his absolute best to not spare you a glance, his face scrunched up and he wills himself to focus, but to be honest... he's failing miserably.

Okay, maybe he should have left or let you leave when you suggested that. The words he's reading aren't even registering in his brain at this point. But you're so close! So, so close and he's a weak man! He'd miss you and wouldn't stop thinking on what you're doing if you were away, and he can't focus when you're so close.

His priorities have clearly tilted, but he just told you he'd get back on business, so he doesn't want to go back on his word so fast. He can at least pretend he's being responsible for a little while, then take a small rest and cuddle when your bowl is empty. Maybe you'd even kiss him on the cheek and tell him he's made good progress. Okay, that thought's as distracting as it is helpful.

Now with renewed determination, Ino straightens up and reads from start. But his retention capacity betrays him every handful of seconds, and his eyes tilt smoothly towards you. It's like there's this little worm on his brain asking him what you're doing every single minute, and every time he can't help but check to answer. Even if every moment right now you're just chewing, humming to yourself and watching something on your phone.

You're watching something in your phone, he suddenly notices. You have one earbud on, despite there being a whole tv in front of you two. It hits him that you're doing that to avoid distracting him with whatever you'd decide to watch, leaving the room quiet for him to work with. And that perceived thoughtfulness is what it takes for him to break.

"Awww...!" Ino gushes loudly, making you flinch at the sudden sound.

"What?" You set you almost finished bowl in the coffee table, taking off your earbud.

"You..." He sniffles, eyes sparkling and hands to his face. And before you can even question him, he spews, "You're so cute! 🥺"

Ino lunges towards you, making you squeal. he embraces your waist, nuzzling his face on your stomach." "'Kuma, be careful!"

"Sorryyy," He replies in a whiny tone, "But I'm serious. You can't just do that. You know, existing beside me, being so adorable and all that."

"Well you can't live without me, so you should get used to it already."

"I know, but I can't." He exhales dramatically, genuinely afflicted. "You're so perfect and lovely and adorable and-" A tight squeeze, "Just... so amazing that I can't get used to it."

"You're just looking for excuses to slack off, and I'm your closest distraction." You call out.

"And the most attractive one! And most effective! I am so doomed."

"You didn't deny it. Don't you wanna make Nanami proud?" You purposely tease.

Ino sits up straight, "I do! I will. But everyone needs a good break once in a while. I've been working for so long today, I can't focus because I'm burnt out."

"Takuma, you've worked for exactly 14 minutes since I sat here."

"Well you don't now how long I was on the grind before you did!"

You finally crack, laughing out loud. It's a sound Ino loves, but one that only makes his heart throb violently right now. He embraces you tightly again, biting your shoulder lightly and instinctively.

"Ino!" He winces at your scolding, pressing an apology kiss in the same area. "Sorry, babe. It's mandatory cuddling time, though."

"Mandatory."

"Mhm."

You sigh, suppressing a smile. "If it'll boost your productivity, I'll cave."

Ino grins, obviously pleased.

It did not boost his productivity, by the way.

He just pulled you to lay down in the couch and cuddled you as you both watched a comfort show.

He held you tightly, squeezing ocassionally like he couldn't get enough.

Thing is, Takuma Ino doesn't need you to do anything special to worship you.

He thinks you're the best thing in his life every single day, and he's barely surviving the affection in his chest every living moment with you nearby.

He's just better at managing it some days than others... he already does enough with how much he has you on his mind.

So sure, Ino is a bit of clingy partner. But he really loves you and he's doing his best. Just be sure to kiss him in the cheek and tell him he's a good student, but an even better boyfriend. That's all he needs to be happy today.

❀ Hakari and Kirara

You've been dating Kirara and Hakari for a few months.

It was strange to you at first, to be joining an already existing couple, but things went smoother than expected. Specially considering how welcoming they were towards you, since they liked you as much as you liked them.

You hang around them at the fight club often, sometimes helping around on what you could or just existing beside them. So, naturally, you've shared many experiences together already.

But something you haven't shared yet, has been the pleasure of getting a few drinks together.

Hakari was the one that drank the most of your little trio, though Kirara didn't hesitate to join him at times. It was a bonding thing, more often than not, relaxing with a drink of their choice while watching matches or lazing around.

You were really hesitant to indulge, though.

You got offered whiskey by Hakari once, told him it's too strong to your liking. Beer? You're not a fan of the taste. Random alcoholic can you all bought from a convenience store? You didn't finish yours.

They wondered if you were just shy, so besides some teasing, you didn't really get pushed by them to drink anything. You were content to just be around them, why would they pretend they didn't feel the same? If you were just not a fan of drinking that's fine by them.

They assumed so for some time, not really expecting you to drink anything at this point. That was, until tonight.

"Kira, what are you doing?" You ask curiously from your seat beside Hakari, his arm looped around you as per usual. Kirara had been mixing some drinks and fruits in the background, kneeling in front of the coffee table in front of you, and you had been too distracted to notice. Now though, your curiosity has beat you.

"This? I'm making something different to drink. Ever had a sangria?" Kirara questions, mixing everything together. The swirling of the liquid with the diced fruits is entertaining to watch, eyes trained on the jug even as you shake your head.

Kirara takes your continued attention as interest, a faint smirk in her lips. "Wanna try it? Don't wanna drink it alone."

"Won't Kin drink with you?" You doubt, Hakari's eyes darting towards you two at the mention of his name. He clicks his tongue, shaking his head.

"Nah, not a fan of the fruity bullshit. Though you might enjoy it, doll. Barely tastes like alcohol anyway."

"Sooo?" Kirara smirks playfully, lifting the jug playfully. "Want a glass? Tell me now, or else I'll add some extra alcohol to it."

"Wait... I wanna try it." You finally decide, Kirara's eyes lighting up at your words. She gets two glasses and pours the drink on them, the contrast between your drinks and Hakari's whiskey which he's currently drinking almost funny to watch.

"Cheers!" Kirara clinks her glass against yours animatedly, her emotion making you smile. You take a sip from it, and end up more pleased than you expected.

"Seems like someone's a fan." Hakari smirks, tugging you closer as Kirara sits on the other side. You want to argue with him, to not give in to his teasing, but it's hard when you're already going for another sip.

"The fruit gives it a nice touch." You comment, earning a 'right?' from Kirara as she reaches to make hers stronger. Hakari rolls his eyes, still in disagreement, but pleased enough that you seem to be enjoying yourself with this.

You get in the mood pretty easily after, savoring the taste and even getting a refill after your first try. "Don't drink it like it's juice, it still has alcohol, 'kay?" Kirara warns, but you only hum in acknowledgement as you watch the colorful liquid filling your glass to the brim.

Kirara tried warning you.

Alas, those were the last words you heard from her while sober.

"Woooow, that guy's like, super strong," You slur your words as you point at the tv, the fight club still in full swing at this hour.

"That guy? They've beat the shit out of him, babe. Never won a single fight." Hakari comments in response, a bit confused at your commentary. You never really say much unless there's something interesting happening, and this is just a filler match with a guy you've all seen before. So why...?

"Aw, so Kin-chan didn't bet on him?" You interrupt his train of thought, "Now I'm kinda sad."

"What was that?" KIrara sharply turns to face you at the nickname, poking your cheek, "Don't copy me, silly!"

"Why would I do that?" Hakari responds to your question, "It's obvious he'll lose."

"Well, everyone deserves to have someone who supports them!" You huff, before facing Kirara. "Kiraaa, stop!"

Hakari squints at you, watching you whine and complain at Kirara's playful nagging. He's puzzled for a second until it clicks, a slow smirk making its way to his lips. "Are you drunk?"

"Huh...?" Your eyes dizzily meet his, making Kirara stop for a moment. When you don't even register the question, she catches on as well, watching you refill your glass.

"Oh my god, you're sooo drunk." Kirara grins wolfishly, attaching herself to your side. You're now poking at a lime slice inside of your glass, trying to fish it out.

Is this why you refused to drink with them? Okay maybe Kirara did add more alcohol to the jug at a certain point, but she didn't think you'd keep refilling. You didn't have that many glasses anyway, only a lightweight would get wasted from that. So that was your secret, huh. Your partners are now less interested in the fight on the screen, and a thousand more times interested in your behavior.

"Oh, sugar, you shouldn't be eating that!" Kirara coos at you, but makes no move to stop you from bringing the lime to your mouth. Hypocritical, much? Maybe. But watching your face scrunch up after you take a big bite of the it is worth it.

You cough it out immediately, eyes growing watery. With a whine, you bury your face in Kirara's chest, looking for reassurance.

"Aww, it's okay, my baby," She embraces you, rubbing your back comfortingly. She's so pleased with herself for getting cuddles from you for free, even though she kinda set you up. Hakari raises an eyebrow from his side of the couch, while she stares back smugly.

"So what," Hakari breaks the silence, "Does your boyfriend get no cuddles?"

You lift your head your head to look at him, and your flushed face paired with your disoriented gaze would have moved him, if not for your next words: "What boyfriend?"

Hakari visibly flinches. "Excuse me? The one who lends you two his card so you can buy whatever the hell you want, obviously."

Kirara stifles a laugh at Hakari's tone, low and gruff yet obviously pouty if you know him enough. You don't pick on that in this state, though, his tightly knotted eyebrows making you think there's something genuinely wrong.

"Did I upset you, Kin?" You ask wobbily, face contorted in genuine sadness. You disentangle from Kirara's embrace, much to her dismay, now gluing to Hakari's side in an attempt to console. "I'm sorry..."

Hakari huffs like he's not sure, looks away like he's not melting in the inside. You obviously don't realize why he's upset, but he commends you for trying to appease him anyway. His arm hugs around your waist as usual, pushing you to his chest. "Guess I can forgive you." He's smirking once you can't see him, clearly cocky at having the upper hand again.

"Heeey, what about me?" Kirara pouts immediately, glaring at Hakari who's winking at her triumphantly. You look back at her. "Hm?"

"You don't have any affection for old little 'rara?" She crosses her arms, sulking. This has somehow become a competition for drunk you's attention, and you're none the wiser.

"Uh... Kirara is pretty." You mumble, and she grins.

"How pretty?" She asks as she scoots closer, beaming at you.

"You're given an inch and you wanna take a mile, doll." Hakari points out. She sticks her tongue out to him, and he squeezes you further.

"So...?" She insists, and you hum thoughtfully.

"Very. Like the stars."

"Aww, you're a cutie too!" kirara squeals, pinching your cheek with a little more force than necessary.

"But, like the glowing green stars you glue at the ceiling." You add, like the information is crucial. Kirara gives you a weird look, but she still wraps her arms around you.

"Kin has cool hair and coat, by the way." You comment, looking at him. Okay, you're a chatty drunk. That's obvious now. Your words are barely understandable due to the cadence and clumsiness of your voice, but it's entertaining to listen to at the very least.

"How cool? Cooler than Kirara's?" He asks in an obvious attempt to tease the latter, an amused glance thrown her way. Your back is against his chest now, while Kirara is crowding your front. They're pretty clingy at the moment, hanging onto every little word coming out from your mouth.

"Well... both is cool. Like, for example..." You trail off and completely forget you were talking in the first place. You instead stare at Hakari. "Can I use your coat?"

"Yeah, yeah, doll." He agrees before he knows what he's doing. "Just don't throw up on it or something."

You smile dopily, haphazardly throwing the coat over your shoulders. You mumble something about being 'as cool as Kin-chan now', and he has to take a moment for himself so he doesn't crush you against his chest.

"Comfy?" Kirara asks, showing she has way less self control than him with the way she's nibbling on your shoulder. When did she start? You didn't even feel it. Guess you'll notice tomorrow when you see the bite marks littered on your skin.

"Yeah... I am." You answer her, eyes drooping. "Just let me get my..."

You attempt to grab your forgotten glass, almost knocking it over. They both pull you back, dissaproving. "No more drinks for you tonight, sugar."

"Awe... but the fruit..." You weakly protest, but Kirara's already blocking your view, while Hakari holds you firmly.

"Think it's time for you to rest, babe."

You grumble something, but you can't even tell who's speaking to you. Mere seconds after you're slumped against them, snoring like your body only needed to be told to give up into rest.

"Huh. Out like a light." Hakari notes amusedly, smirking as he pokes your cheek.

"Shame. Was having lots of fun." Kirara answers, yet she's also smiling.

"Of course you were, you two were ganging up on me." He grumbles.

"Kin, baby, don't be like that. You got plenty of attention too." Kirara uses that tone that easily convices him each time, and though he acts indifferent, he's clearly pleased as well.

The night passes quietly after you fall asleep, the two watching over you in strange contentment. You wake up confused and remembering practically nothing, eyes widening in disbelief at the tales of how you acted.

You're obviously embarrased, specially with your awfully smug partners teasing you back and forth. But despite it all, they're already hoping you'll let them see that side of yours once more.

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